^1^\\^>J^'^ 


■-^ 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


^ 

w^  ^ 


DOWNWARD  AND  UPWARD. 


DOWN  WA  R  D 


AND 


UPWARD. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

'THE  CLIMBERS."  •'  PAUL  VENNER,"  *"  PURPOSE,"  "THE  GABLED  HOUSE."  ETC 


NEW    YORK: 

N.     TIBBALS     &     SONS, 

124   Nassau   Street. 

1884. 


Kntcied,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

CLAXTON,  REMSEN  &  HAFFELFINGER, 

in  the   Office  of   the  Librarian  of   Congress,  at  Washington. 

STEREOTYPED  BY  J.  FAGAN  &  SON. 


T3 
99/ 


CONTENTS. 


PAGH 

Chapter  I.  —  First  Steps      .                                        ,        .  13 

II.  —  After  the  Ball 24 

III. — What  WILL  People  SAY  OF  Us  ?        .        .        *  Z3 

IV.  —  Looking  Forward 42 

V.  —  Helping  the  Doctor 52 

VI.  —  Rest  and  Toil 63 

VII.  —  Back  through  THE  Years      .         .        ,        .74 

VIII.  —  An  Unexpected  Meeting     ....  82 

IX. — Over  THE  Farm       ......  91 

X.  —  The  Sick  Chamber 100 

XI.  —  Family  Jars no 

XII.  —  Coming  Events 118 

XIII.  —  Characters    .        .        ,        .•        .        .        .124 

XIV.  — Foiled          .......  131 

XV.  —  Searching  Out 138 

XVI.  —  Culminating 151 

XVII.  —  Into  THE  Light 157 

xi 


622/.'^7 


Xii  CONTENTS, 

»AGB 

Chapter  XVIII.  —  Shifting  Sands 163 

XIX.  —  Leaving  Home 176 

XX.  — Evil  Purposes  AND  Plans  .        .        .  186 

XXI.  —  The  Burden  of  a  Great  Sorrow         .  194 

XXIL— BllAVINGTHE  LA<V          .          .           .           .  204 

XXIII.  —  Seth  White  goes  to  the  Theatre       .  220 

XXIV.  —  Going  and  Coming      ....  230 
XXV.  —  Conclusion 241 


DOWNWARD  AND  UPWARD 


CHAPTER  I. 

FIRST    STEPS. 


DI !  Di !  Where  has  that  girl  gone?"  and  Kate 
Delafield  threw  herself  into  the  luxurious  arm- 
chair, her  curls  half-dressed,  and  her  cheeks  flushed 
with  passion. 

"  Let  Rachel  dress  your  hair.  Di  has  gone  to 
Ellen's  room."  And  Mrs.  Delafield  spoke  in  a 
soothing  tone. 

''That 's  the  way  it  always  is.  Di  knows  very  well 
that  no  else  can  dress  my  curls:  she  does  it  just  to 
show  her  power ;  and  I  want  to  look  particularly  well 
to-night!" 

"A  candid  confession,  Miss  Kate.    Ha!  ha!" 

"Just  shut  up.  You've  no  business  here,"  and 
Kate  turned  to  her  brother,  a  tall,  rather  agreeable- 
looking  young  man,  eying  himself  in  the  pier-glass, 
and  very  complacently  stroking  the  down  on  his 
upper  lip. 

"  Go  down,  Cyrus  ;  Kate  is  in  no  mood  for  teasing/' 
and  Mrs.  Delafield  struck  the  bell.  "Tell  Di  to  come 
here." 

2  13 


14  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

"  Here  comes  Di.  That 's  a  good  girl ;  make  haste 
with  Kate's  hair." 

"  I  would  like  to  know  the  use  of  you,  any  way  ?  " 
and  Kate's  voice  was  choking  with  passion. 

*  !IIen  sent  for  me,"  was  ansv/ered  in  a  gentle 
tone. 

"  That 's  it.  If  you  were  not  here,  we  could  have 
somebody  to  depend  upon." 

A  bitter  rejoinder  was  on  Di's  tongue,  and  the  quick 
blood  mounted  to  her  forehead.  A  second  thought, 
and  her  lips  closed  firmly ;  taking  the  brush,  she 
smoothed  the  hair  with  a  gentle  downward  motion, 
and  turned  the  curls  one  by  one  over  her  finger. 

While  Di  is  arranging  the  luxurious  mass  of  sunny 
curls,  we  will  take  occasion  to  say  that  the  family 
we  have  so  unceremoniously  entered  is  considered 
one  of  the  wealthiest  in  the  city.  Accustomed  to 
luxurious  surroundings  from  her  cradle,  Mrs.  Dela- 
field  did  not  pride  herself  upon  her  wealth.  Gladly 
would  she  have  flung  aside  her  robes,  and  remained 
at  home ;  but,  for  her  daughters'  sake,  this  must  not 
be  :  and  thus  the  naturally  quiet  woman  flashed  her 
beauty  on  the  crowd  as  she  did  her  diamonds,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  others  did. 

Not  so  Kate  Delafield  :  the  oldest  daughter,  and 
endowed  with  beauty  of  no  common  order,  she  ap- 
preciated her  position,  and  determined  to  make  the 
most  of  her  father's  wealth.  Agnes  was  not  far  from 
her  own  age,  a  girl  of  more  intelligence  and  less 
physical  beauty.  Each  in  her  ov/n  style  well  fitted 
to  draw  a  crowd  of  admirers.     This  was  their  first 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  1 5 

season,  and  a  brilliant  one  it  promised  to  be.  The 
night  in  question  there  was  to  be  a  magnificent  ball, 
and  several  notables  were  expected ;  and  this  was  no 
doubt  the  reason  why  Kate  desired  particularly  to 
look  her  best. 

Of  the  sons,  Jared  and  Cyrus,  little  could  be  said 
save  that  they  were  young  men  of  pleasure  bent 
upon  enjoyment,  as  they  called  it,  and  never  think- 
ing but  their  father's  wealth  would  buoy  them  up  and 
along  the  years,  in  whatever  capacity  it  suited  them 
to  move. 

"  I  wonder  if  Jay  is  to  go  with  us,"  and  Mrs. 
Delafield  swept  through  the  folding-doors,  elegantly 
dressed  in  moire  silk,  with  a  point-lace  shawl  thrown 
carelessly  over  her  shoulders. 

*^  Indeed,  Di,  there  is  magic  about  your  fingers. 
No  wonder  Kate  thinks  Rachel  will  not  answer," 
and  the  mother  looked  proudly  into  the  beautiful  face 
of  her  child,  now  radiant  with  blushes  and  laughter. 

Di  gave  one  quick  glance  at  the  mother's  face, 
and  a  little  sigh  crept  up  to  her  lips.  She  was  not 
thinking  of  the  ball,  the  elegant  dress,  and  the 
attention  sure  to  follow.  She  had  never  known  a 
mother's  love,  and  she  thought  what  a  bliss  it  would 
be  just  for  one  such  look. 

*'  Next  year,  and  you  can  go  with  us,  perhaps,"  as 
Mrs.  Delafield  noticed  the  serious  face. 

"  Not  till  I  'm  out  of  the  way,"  and  a  little  musical 
laugh  trilled  through  the  room.  Tears  were  in  Di's 
eyes,  but  she  hastily  shook  them  off,  and  began 
lacing  the  white  bodice. 


l6  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

"That  will  do;"  and  Kate  stepped  back,  and 
looked  at  herself.  "  No ;  let  that  moss  rosebud 
droop  a  trifle  more.  Now  for  my  gloves  and  bouquet. 
What  say  you,  mother?"  and  the  beauty  turned 
with  a  graceful  bow. 

"Charming!  I  have  never  seen  you  more  be- 
comingly dressed." 

"  Where  's  Jay  ?"  and  Agnes's  voice  was  heard  in 
the  hall. 

"  You  will  not  see  him  to-night :  he  's  other  fish  to 
fry,"  and  Cyrus  laughed  good-humoredly.  A  ring 
of  the  door-bell,  and  Mr.  Flashman's  card  was  sent 
up.  The  carriage  was  in  readiness,  and  they  had  gone, 
leaving  Di  standing  before  the  grate,  her  elbow  rest- 
ing on  the  mantel,  and  her  eyes  riveted  on  the  glow- 
ing fire.  A  moment,  and  the  tears  coursed  down  her 
cheeks,  while  her  figure  trembled  with  emotion  ;  then 
raising  her  head,  she  slowly  brushed  them  aside, 
arranged  the  room,  and  withdrew  to  Ellen's  apart- 
ment. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  have  come,"  and  the  thin 
arms  clasped  Di's  neck,  while  a  small  face  nestled 
close  to  her  own.     "  It  has  been  so  long." 

"  I  know,  darling." 

"  Mamma  just  came  in  for  a  kiss.  I  wanted  to  see 
how  pretty  Kate  and  Agnes  looked,"  said  the  little 
grieved  voice. 

"  It  was  late  before  I  could  dress  Kate's  hair.  We 
will  not  think  any  more  about  it.  Shall  I  sing  to  you 
one  of  our  hymns  ?  " 

"  Do,  please,"  and  the  pale  face  brightened. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  1/ 

The  voice  was  sweet  and  clear,  and  while  Di  sung, 
Ellen's  eyes  closed. 

Won  by  the  singing  and  also  by  a  desire  to  see  his 
child,  Mr.  Delafield  entered  the  sick  chamber. 

"  Poor  little  girl.  Is  she  asleep  ?  "  and  he  kissed 
the  pallid  lips. 

"  No,  papa ;  I  was  just  thinking.  Di  says  there 
won't  be  any  pain  there.  Everybody  will  be  happy ; 
won't  it  be  nice,  papa  ?  "  and  she  nestled  her  face  still 
closer  to  her  father's. 

**  We  must  be  happy  here,  child." 

"  But  we  can  't  be,  papa.  There  are  so  many  things 
to  make  us  feel  badly.  The  days  are  so  long :  I  cry 
sometimes,  and  so  does  Di.     Don't  you,  Di  ?  " 

"  That 's  when  I  'm  tired  a  little,"  and  a  light  blush 
crept  up  to  Di's  cheek. 

There  was  deep  tenderness  in  the  father's  heart 
Ellen  had  been  a  pet  with  him,  a  bright,  healthy 
child.  Last  winter  she  was  prostrated  with  a  severe  at- 
tack of  scarlet  fever,  and  since  her  life  has  vibrated 
upon  a  single  thread, —  occasionally  able  to  go  into  the 
drawing-room,  at  other  times  confined  to  her  bed. 
Since  her  illness  she  had  become  greatly  attached  to 
Di ;  and  the  father's  heart  went  backward.  Years  ago 
he  had  taken  his  family  on  a  visit  to  a  neighboring  city. 
When  they  reached  the  depot,  and  the  crowd  stepped 
from  the  cars,  it  was  ascertained  that  one  little  girl 
remained  for  whom  there  was  no  claimant.  She  was 
apparently  three  or  four  years  old,  and  see  .ned  to  be 
of  English  parentage.  Knowing  this,  Mi .  Delafield 
was  greatly  interested  in  the  issue ;  and  when  he  ro 

2*  B 


l8  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

turned  to  New  York,  this  little  neglected  child  went 
with  him.  Gladly  would  he  have  adopted  her  as  one 
to  be  treated  in  all  respects  as  his  own  daughter;  but 
this  was  not  easy  to  be  effected,  and  he  contented 
himself  with  knowing  that  she  enjoyed  the  same  ad- 
vantages, and  her  musical  talent  was  not  neglected. 

With  a  beautiful  face  and  a  manner  strangely  win- 
ning, it  was  not  Kate's  plan  to  have  her  enter  society; 
and  Ellen's  illness,  and  her  great  love  for  Di,  rendered 
a  ready  excuse  to  detain  her  at  times.  Added  to 
this,  Di  herself  did  not  appear  to  mind  it.  With 
fine  artistic  taste,  she  was  found  to  be  indispensable 
in  hair-dressing,  trimming  dresses,  and  arranging 
flowers,  and  on  this  account  Kate  and  Agnes  patron- 
ized her  at  times,  and  chided  her  at  others,  driving 
her  still  more  frequently  to  Ellen's  room,  and  lead- 
ing her  to  depend  more  upon  her  own  thoughts,  and 
her  books,  and  music,  than  upon  the  social  influences 
around  her. 

**  Ellen  must  go  to  sleep  now;  papa  has  to  go  out," 
and  Mr.  Delafield  started  up,  once  more  kissing  the 
pale  cheek,  giving  Di  a  few  kind  words,  and  telling 
her  not  to  sit  up  late. 

Overcome  with  fatigue,  Ellen's  eyes  soon  closed. 
Leaving  her  with  Rachel,  Di  went  down  into  the 
parlor  and  opened  the  instrument,  hardly  knowing 
the  reason  she  was  sad.  A  few  months  previous  she 
had,  to  please  Ellen,  dressed  up  in  the  fashion  of 
other  days.  Going  to  an  old  closet,  she  found  a  suit 
of  child's  clothes  beautifully  made,  and  of  exquisite 
material.     Not   dreaming  of  the  history  connected 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  I9 

with  them,  she  dressed  a  small  child  that  chanced  to 
be  a  visitor,  greatly  to  the  amusement  of  the  invalid. 
Suddenly  Mr.  Delafield  entered  the  room,  and  his 
exclamation  brought  out  the  truth,  —  they  were  the 
garments  Di  had  worn  when  found  in  the  cars.  With 
tears  she  removed  them,  letting  her  fingers  fall  ca- 
ressingly over  the  silken  folds.  Old  as  they  were 
they  were  still  very  handsome,  and  in  no  wise  below 
the  style  of  the  family  she  was  now  in.  Not  a  day 
since  but  she  looked  at  them,  and  as  she  looked  there 
came  thoughts  of  a  mother's  love;  perhaps  her  own 
fingers  had  fashioned  the  dress,  and  Di  fancied  the 
delight  she  must  have  felt.  Then  came  the  mystery 
of  her  loneliness ;  could  it  be  that  her  mother  had 
deserted  her  ?  And,  if  suddenly  separated  from  her, 
what  sorrow  that  mother  must  have  known. 

The  more  she  thinks,  the  more  impenetrable  it  is  ; 
and  leaning  her  head  on  her  hands,  the  tears  fall  si- 
lently. Di's  tears  are  like  the  April  rain;  gloom 
is  not  the  element  of  her  nature.  She  has  been 
told  that  life  is  a  discipline,  something  needful  to  fit 
the  soul  for  its  higher  development. 

Almost  unconsciously  her  fingers  press  the  keys, 
and  a  strain  is  evoked  that  has  power  to  touch  her 
heart.  Running  out  on  this  sweet,  mellow  adagio, 
Di  grows  calm;  she  forgets  the  present,  and  no 
longer  thinks  of  the  past.  Somewhere  in  the  future 
she  is  sure  there  is  a  heart  beating  for  her, —  a  mother's 
arms  once  more  to  clasp  her.  It  is  real,  and  this 
reality  gives  her  coura^|^  Time  passes ;  the  music 
swells  out  now  loud  aiHrclear.  then  soft,  low,  melt- 


20  DO  WN  WA  KD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

ing,  —  the  plaint  of  a  heart  burdened  with  a  great  sor- 
row. Too  sad  to  think ;  but  she  can  sing,  and  her 
heart  is  lighter,  happier.  What  a  blessed  gift;  lift- 
ing the  heart  up  to  heavenly  resting-places.  There 
was  a  step,  a  shadow  between  her  and  the  fire- 
light. 

"  Why,  Jay!  you  frighten  me.  I  thought  you  at  the 
ball." 

**  Hush  !    Are  they  all  gone  ?  " 

"  Your  father  was  the  last." 

"And  Rachel?" 

"  She  is  with  Ellen." 

"  You  are  sure  father  has  gone  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure." 

"  Now  tell  me,  Di,  where  is  mother's  key  ?  I  have 
been  to  her  room :  it  is  not  in  the  desk." 

"  What  do  you  want  to  do  with  it  ?  " 

"  To  be  honest,  I  must  have  some  money." 

"  It  is  not  a  week  since  your  mother  gave  you  a 
large  roll  of  bills." 

"  What  of  that :  I  need  more." 

"  It  is  wrong  to  use  money  so  ;  you  ought  not  to 
have  any  more." 

"Don't  begin  to  preach:  but  come,  like  a  good 
girl,  get  me  the  key." 

"  I  do  not  know  where  the  key  is,  and,  if  I  did,  I 
would  not  get  it  for  you." 

"  You  may  as  well,  for  I  shall  have  it.  Come,  Di, 
I  am  sure  you  know  where  it  is." 

"  If  I  do,  it  will  not  profy^ou." 

"  Dear  me  !  you  act  as  tlrotgh  I  was  going  to  take 


nOlVNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  21 

something  not  my  own.  I  only  anticipate  a  little.  It 
belongs  to  me.'^ 

**  No,  Jay,  it  does  not  belong  to  you.  It  is  not 
right  to  allow  one  child  so  much  more  than  another." 

'*  Cyrus  is  not  as  old  as  I  am,  and  the  girls  spend 
more  on  their  fine  dresses  than  I  do.  But  what  is 
the  use  of  talking.  Come  up-stairs,  like  a  good  girl, 
and  give  me  the  key." 

"  That  I  will  not  do." 

"  Very  well.  If  it 's  wrong,  you  know  of  it;  and  if 
there  is  anything  said,  I  will  bring  you  in  as  an  ac- 
complice." 

"  You  will  not  do  any  such  thing ;  you  will  not 
dare  to  do  it." 

"  Not  dare  !  "  and  Jay  crossed  the  room. 

With  a  spring,  Di  confronted  him.  "  I  beg  you, 
Jay,  do  not  go  to  her  writing-desk.  Wait  till  morn- 
ing, and  then  ask  her  for  it." 

"  I  want  it  to-night.  To  confess  the  truth,  I  lost 
all  I  had  at  one  throw,  and  now  I  am  determined  to 
win  it  back ;  that  I  can't  do,  unless  I  have  something 
to  begin  with." 

"  Just  to-night,  Jay,"  and  Di  grew  bold,  laying  her 
hand  on  Jay's  arm,  and  looking  into  his  face  plead- 
ingly. 

"  Whew,  girl !  your  eloquence  makes  you  a  regu- 
lar beauty.  I  never  knew  before  how  really  pretty 
you  are.  *  No  wonder,  Kate,"  and  Jay  bit  his  lip  and 
turned  on  his  heel.  "  It's  getting  late ;  and  the 
money  I  must  have." 

"  I  will  not  see  you  ta^  it,"  and  Di  seated  herself 


22  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

at  the  piano.  The  charm  was  gone ;  tears  were  in 
her  eyes.  Jay  had  always  been  kind  to  her,  taking 
her  part  when  his  sisters  were  overbearing.  Years 
ago,  the  summer  they  spent  in  the  country,  there 
was  a  grand  picnic  in  the  woods.  They  were  enjoy- 
ing themselves  in  various  ways,  when  suddenly  Kate 
grew  angry  at  something  unintentionally  done  on 
her  part,  and  taunted  her  with  having  no  right  to 
be  there.  Passionate,  with  a  heart  full  of  angry 
thoughts,  she  only  longed  to  hide  away  by  herself 
A  small  stream  separated  them  from  a  deep  wood ; 
a  log  spanned  it,  and  twice  during  the  morning  had 
she  crossed  it.  She  attempted  it  now  :  her  eyes 
were  full  of  tears,  her  head  was  unsteady ;  she  could 
not  see  the  water  was  not  deep ;  but  it  was  rapid, 
and,  before  she  was  aware,  she  had  fallen  in.  Jay  did 
not  laugh  as  he  drew  her  out,  bearing  her  tenderly  in 
his  arms  to  a  sunny  glade,  removing  her  shoes  with  his 
own  hands,  and  comforting  her  with  his  words.  And 
now,  if  she  could  only  do  as  much  for  him.  "  If  he 
only  felt  the  necessity  of  doing  something  for  him- 
self," she  said,  half  aloud.  "  As  it  is,  his  father  gives 
him  a  liberal  allowance  every  week,  and  his  mother 
makes  up  for  every  deficiency ;  and  what  he  cannot 
beg,  he  is  willing  to  take  by  stealth." 

"  You  need  not  feel  so  badly ;  I  did  not  take  but 

half  of  what  I  found  there,"  and  Jay  held  up  a  roll  of 

bills.     "  I  knew  mother  had  plenty;  she  always  has." 

"  Promise  me  not  to  play  to-night,  Jay." 

"  I  will  play  to-night;  and,  more  than  that,  I  will 

win  back  what  I  lost  the  &^x  night." 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  23 

"  Oh,  Jay!  if  you  do  not  stop,  it  will  ruin  you ;  it 
will  ruin  all  of  us." 

"  Say  no  more,  and  see  that  you  don't  tell." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  tell." 

"  Good-night,  little  preacher.  It's  worth  while  to 
get  your  blood  up.  Zounds  !  a  regular  little  beauty. 
I'd  do  it  again,  only  I  have  n't  time  now." 

Going  back  to  Ellen's  room,  Di  opened  her  book. 
Mr.  Delafield  had  recommended  it;  and  not  till  the 
sound  of  carriage-wheels  was  heard  on  the  pavement 
did  she  lay  it  down  :  she  would  not  let  him  know  that 
she  had  neglected  his  advice,  and,  turning  down  the 
light,  she  slipped  into  bed,  blessing  the  author  for  the 
happiness  his  pages  had  afforded  her. 


CHAPTER  II. 

AFTER   THE    BALL. 

IT  was  a  late  hour  when  the  family  met  for  break- 
fast, and  the  ball  was  discussed  in  a  manner  that 
proved,  however  brilliant  it  might  have  been,  there 
was  no  abiding  happiness  to  follow.  Kate  com- 
plained of  a  headache.  And  Agnes  found  it  stupid 
to  dance  all  the  time ;  she  liked  a  little  conversation 
between  the  sets. 

"  I  should  think  you  indulged  in  it,  for  that  matter. 
I  really  cannot  see  what  you  find  in  Stanton;  and 
especially  since  you  have  learned  a  little  of  his  past 
life,"  said  Cyrus,  in  a  sarcastic  tone. 

"I  have  not  learned  anything  to  his  disparage- 
ment," returned  Agnes,  warmly.  "  I  don't  see  why 
it  is.  I  never  do  have  a  friend  that  the  rest  of  you 
seem  to  think  anything  of" 

*'  Your  friends  have  the  rare  charm  of  looking  for 
something  that  they  have  not,  never  had,  and  never 
will  have,  I  hope,"  and  Cyrus  threw  himself  back  in 
his  chair,  and  laughed  provokingly. 

Kate  was  busy  talking  over  the  beaux,  discussing 
dresses,  compliments,  and  eatables  in  a  tone  that  left 
it  difficult  to  know  whether  she  had  enjoyed  or  only 
endured  them.     Di's  was  the  only  happy  face  there. 

24 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  2$ 

A  cheerful  smile  playing  about  the  rosy  lips,  and  an 
eye  quick  to  anticipate  the  wants  of  each.  Lan- 
guidly, Mrs.  Delafield  sipped  her  coffee;  while  her 
husband  sat  opposite,  seemingly  absorbed  in  the 
morning  paper.  Laying  it  aside,  he  turned  to 
Rachel, 

*'  Has  Jay  been  down  this  morning  ?  " 

*'  I  have  not  seen  him,  sir." 

A  telegraphic  look  passed  from  Cyrus  to  Di,  but 
not  too  quick  to  escape  the  father's  notice. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  of  his  movements  ? 
Was  he  at  the  ball  ?  " 

"  No,  father,"  Agnes  replied  ;  "  he  said  that  he  had 
an  engagement." 

A  troubled  look  gleamed  on  the  mother's  face, 
while  an  appealing  glance  shot  over  to  her  husband. 

"  The  way  that  boy  goes  on  will  ruin  me.  I  have 
paid  several  of  his  bills  within  the  last  few  days. 
With  more  money  every  week  than  some  men  require 
to  set  them  up  in  business,  I  cannot  see,  for  my  life, 
what  he  does  with  it.  Two  thousand  dollars  to  a  liv- 
ery-stable !  It  does  not  seem  to  me  possible.  I  am  ter- 
ribly afraid  the  boy  gambles." 

One  by  one  they  left  the  table.  Mr.  Delafield  sat 
alone :  moodily  he  resumed  his  paper.  A  sliding 
step  was  on  the  stairs,  and  the  door  opened. 

"  Ten  to  one  everything  is  cold." 

"  Your  own  fault,  if  it  is ;  you  should  have  been 
here  in  time,"  and  the  father  confronted  Jay.    "  Give 
an  account  of  yourself,  young  man.    Where  were  you 
last  night  ?  " 
3 


26  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

"  I  had  an  engagement  that  kept  me  up  late,  and 
overslept  myself  this  morning  in  consequence  of  it." 

"  Of  course  you  had ;  but  I  would  like  to  know 
who  it  was  with.  You  are  too  much  inclined  to 
hang  round  a  set  of  fellows  that  can  do  you  little 
good.  If  I  find  you  gaming,  sir,  your  funds  will  be 
cut  down  suddenly." 

There  was  anger  in  Mr.  Delafield's  voice,  and  Jay's 
face  was  burning  with  passion.  At  this  instant  Ellen 
came  in,  half  led,  half  supported  by  Di. 

"  Papa,  I  am  glad  to  come  down  this  morning." 

"  And  papa  is  glad  to  see  you,  darling.  Did  you 
sleep  well  last  night  ?  "  clasping  the  invalid  in  his 
arms. 

"  Di  sung  me  to  sleep ;  and  I  dreamed  about 
people  dressed  in  white,  with  wings  and  golden 
crowns.  It  was  beautiful.  I  almost  wanted  to  be 
there,  papa." 

"  Papa's  little  girl  does  not  want  to  leave  him  ?  " 
and  the  father  nestled  the  little  one  still  closer  to  his 
bosom. 

"  Di  learned  all  about  it  at  school ;  and  when  she 
goes  to  church,  she  comes  back  and  tells  me  what  a 
beautiful  place  there  is  all  ready  for  us  when  we  go 
away  from  here.  They  never  feel  badly  there  ;  they 
are  never  sick.     I  am  glad  ;  ain't  you,  papa?  " 

"  Papa  does  not  like  his  little  girl  to  think  so  much 
of  these  things.  He  wants  to  see  her  very  happy 
all  the  time.     Is  there  anything  she  wants  to-day  ?  " 

"  You  are  good,  and  I  love  you,  papa ;  but  you 
can't  make  me  well  again.     I  have  such  a  pain  in 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  2/ 

my  head  and  here,"  laying  her  thin  hand  upon  her 
breast. 

"  But  when  spring  comes,  and  the  flowers  and 
the  birds,  then  papa  hopes  to  see  his  little  girl  well 
and  strong." 

**  Then  I  shall  go  to  church  with  Di.  Will  you  go 
with  me,  papa?  sometimes,  you  know." 

"  Perhaps  papa  will  take  his  little  girl  away  to  the 
springs  or  to  the  mountains  ;  and  when  she  comes 
back,  she  will  be  able  to  dance  over  the  house,  just 
as  she  used  to  do." 

"But  if  I  don't,  papa?" 

"  You  must  think  that  you  will." 

**  You  are  a  dear,  good  papa;  and  I  should  not  be 
happy  up  there  without  you." 

Jay  set  back  his  chair,  hardly  touching  his  break- 
fast. 

**  You  have  not  kissed  me  good-morning,"  said 
Ellen,  seeing  him  about  to  leave  the  room.  "  You 
never  come  to  see  me." 

"  It  is  because  I  am/ afraid  of  disturbing  you  ;"  and 
Jay  came  back  and  kissed  the  little  wasted  cheek. 

"  It  disturbs  me  more  to  think  that  you  forget  me. 
Please,  remember,"  as  she  looked  after  him. 

"  Don't  tell  father,"  Jay  whispered  to  Di,  in  pass- 
ing.    "  I  will  see  mother  about  it." 

There  was  little  cheerfulness  for  the  remainder  of 
the  day.  Mr.  Delafield  went  to  his  business,  and  Jay 
and  his  mother  had  a  stormy  interview.  Cyrus  plead 
an  engagement,  and  Kate  tried  to  rally  as  Mr.  Flash- 
man  called,     Herbert  Lyndsey  had  left  town  for  a 


28  DO  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D. 

few  weeks.     Agnes  choked  down  her  resentment,  and 
solaced  herself  with  Mr.  Stanton. 

"  A  most  agreeable  person  to  talk  with,"  she  said 
to  Di  "Strange,  that  every  person  is  so  preju- 
diced against  him.  Then  he  speaks  so  many  lan- 
guages; and  there  is  no  denying  that  he  dances  in  the 
most  elegant  manner.  Dear  me,  Di !  I  actually  be- 
lieve you  are  asleep.  That 's  all  the  sympathy  I  get. 
If  I  tell  Kate,  she  laughs ;  and  mamma  is  so  afraid 
papa  will  find  out  that  he  calls." 

Ellen  was  really  improving.  Dr.  Landseer  called 
before  dinner.  Mrs.  Delafield  and  her  daughters  were 
out  for  a  drive.  The  doctor  had  been  to  Europe 
during  the  summer,  and  by  degrees  the  conversation 
branched  off  into  a  political  channel,  contrasting  the 
peculiar  governments  with  our  own,  the  degradation 
and  oppression  there,  the  different  classes.  "  Per- 
haps not  differing  in  principle  from  those  to  be  found 
here,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  but  immeasurably  harder 
to  pass  from  the  one  to  the  other."  Then  of  the 
scenery  and  works  of  art,  describing  old  castles  and 
ivy-mantled  monasteries  in  a  manner  that  won  the 
attention  of  Di  and  Ellen. 

"  With  one  thing  in  which  they  are  greatly  our 
superiors,"  and  he  drew  his  chair  nearer  to  Ellen,  and 
raised  the  thin,  wasted  hand  in  his  own,  —  "the  peo- 
ple have  more  health,  finer  developed  figures,  and 
stronger  constitutions  than  are  to  be  found  on  this 
side  of  the  water." 

"  This  is,  no  doubt,  to  be  attributed  to  their  mannei 
of  life,"  replied  Mr.  Delafield. 


D  OWNWAJ^D  AND    UPWARD.  29 

"Less  care  and  anxiety,  more  enjoyment,  the  free 
and  easy  abandon  of  out-door  existence.  This  is 
what  Ellen  must  have.  When  summer  comes,  she 
must  go  to  the  mountains,  hunting  buttercups  and 
daisies,  chasincr  butterflies,  and  listenino;  to  the  birds 
and  looking  up  squirrels.  Such  exercise  would  n't 
hurt  Di ;  "  and  the  doctor  rose  to  leave. 

"  By  the  way.  Miss  Daisy,  I  have  not  had  my  song. 
Do  you  feel  like  gratifying  mei" 

"  With  pleasure.  Dr.  Landseer.    What  shall  it  be  ?  " 

"  I  confess  to  a  love  for  old  songs." 

"  Music,  like  wine,  is  improved  by  age,"  said  Mr. 
Delafield.  "  I  often  wonder  at  the  strange  power, 
the  rare,  subtle  charm  pervading  those  old  songs; 
the  haunting  memories  even  now  difficult  to  be 
thrown  aside." 

"  For  one,  I  don't  mean  to  do  it.  Such  memories 
keep  the  heart  young,"  and  a  good-humored  laugh 
sounded  through  the  room. 

Di  had  a  peculiarly  clear  voice,  running  up  the 
high  notes  distinctly,  and  bringing  out  the  lower 
ones  with  a  power  seldom  seen  without  the  pale  of 
artist  life.  She  had  chosen  a  song  that  she  knew 
the  doctor  loved,  and  the  tears  were  running  down 
his  cheeks  as  she  closed. 

"  I  never  seem  to  appreciate  art  as  highly  as  I  do 
in  music,"  said  Mr.  Delafield.  •'  There  is  no  material, 
no  subject-matter  to  be  deducted ;  it  is  made  up  of 
form  and  power,  and  it  raises  and  ennobles  whatever 
it  expresses." 

"  To  affect  us  properly,  it  must  have  an  interpreter. 
3* 


30  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

The  same  son^  sung  by  different  individuals  makes 
an  altogether  different  impression  upon  one  who 
listens.     To  sing  well,  one  must  throw  soul  into  it." 

"  Quite  as  necessary  in  other  things  as  in  music. 
Earnestness  gives  success  to  every  pursuit,  and  the 
want  of  it  is  sure  to  prove  a  failure  " 

"  Precept  and  example,  I  am  afraid  my  patients 
would  be  unwilling  to  pardon,  could  they  see  how 
my  time  is  going." 

Dr.  Landseer  had  gone,  and  once  more  Ellen  was 
in  her  own  room. 

"  I  only  hope  I  shall  be  strong  enough  to  hunt 
butterflies  and  squirrels  ;  and  if  I  am,  you  will  go 
with  me,  Di." 

"  We  must  not  think  of  it  with  any  degree  of  cer- 
tainty.    There  is  a  bare  possibility." 

"  Is  it  wrong  to  anticipate  ?  " 

**  It  is  only  wrong  when  we  allow  ourselves  to  be 
carried  away  so  as  to  forget  the  present.  You  remem- 
ber what  Mr.  Parton  told  us  :  we  live  by  the  day." 

"  And  the  leaves  he  told  us  about.  I  am  not  even 
leaves,  Di." 

"You  are  just  as  God  would  have  you,  a  dear, 
little,  sick  girl.  And  now  you  must  not  trouble 
yourself  about  it.  Mr.  Parton  said,  if  God  willed 
to  have  us  do  a  certain  thine:,  he  would  brincf  it 
about." 

Di  had  no  time  to  finish  her  book;  but  she  had 
tried  to  comfort  Ellen  by  bringing  to  mind  what  the 
good  clergyman  had  said.  True,  there  were  times 
when  her  own    heart   was  troubled  beyond  words, 


DOWNIVARD  AND    UPWARD.  3I 

when  she  could  only  think,  and  that  not  clearly. 
Would  God  bring  it  about  ?  And  did  he  care  for  her, 
and  know  just  how  she  tried  ? 

Jay  did  not  return  at  night,  and  there  was  a  grave 
look  on  the  father's  face. 

"  I  have  half  a  mind  to  go  for  him.  I  cannot  bear 
to  think  that  he  plays  ;  and  if  he  does  not,  how  does 
he  manage  to  run  up  such  enormous  bills  ?  " 

Had  his  father  been  less  stern,  or  his  mother  less 
weak,  he  might  have  been  led  to  reform.  As  it  was, 
each  night  involved  him  still  further.  He  grew  dex- 
terous ;  drinking  in  the  technicalities  of  the  game, 
winning  and  losing  with  a  becoming  sang-froid,  and 
thus  far  successful  in  hiding  his  passion  from  his 
father. 

Hastily  passing  from  the  parlor  to  Ellen's  room, 
Di  was  startled  by  the  crouching  figure  of  a  man 
slipping  in  at  the  side-door  and  gliding  up  the  stair- 
case directly  behind  her.  A  moment,  and  she  would 
have  screamed  with  terror. 

'*  Di,  don't  you  know  me  ? "  and  she  turned  to 
meet  Jay,  his  hat  slouched  over  his  eyes,  and  his  dis- 
guise so  perfect  she  would  never  have  thought  of 
him,  but  for  his  voice, 

"  I  don't  want  father  to  see  me." 

"  What  have  you  been  doing.  Jay  ?  " 

**  Doing !    that 's  it.     I  have  nothing  to  do  with, 
girl." 
-     **  Then  why  this  disguise  ?  " 

"  Luck  seems  to  be  against  me.  .  I  've  lost  every 
night  for  a  week ;  it 's  about  time  for  a  turn." 


32  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

"  Won't  you  make  it  to-night,  Jay  ?  " 

"Whew!  you  little  preacher;  but  I  can't  stop  to 

see  you  flush  up  as  you  did  the  other  night.      Mind 

you  don't  tell  the  governor.     When  once  I  get  back 

what  I  have  lost,  I  am  going  to  be  as  good  as  Mr. 

Parton  himself." 

"  Will   that  ever  be.  Jay  ?     Do  stop   before   you 

lose  any  more." 

"Stop!  I  can't  stop  till  I  get  it  back." 

"  Go  to  your  father,  and  confess  it  all." 

"Why,    girl,    father    would    disinherit    me    if  he 

knew." 

"  He  will  know  sometime;  better  tell  him  now." 
"  It  is  just  to  keep  him  from  knowing,  that  I  must 

try  my  hand  again  to-night.    If  I  win,  he  won't  need 

to  know  anything  about  it." 

"And  if  you  lose,  Jay?    Do  think  of  it." 

"  I  can't  think  of  it;  I  must  do  it,"  and  rushing  up 

the  stairs,  Di   heard  him   enter  his  mother's  room 

and  bolt  the  door. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WHAT    WILL    PEOPLE    SAY    OF    US  ? 

IT  will  never  do  to  let  the  season  pass  without  a 
party,"  Kate  Delafield  said  to  her  mother;  "and 
if  we  give  one,  I  want  it  understood  that  it  is  to  be 
fully  equal,  if  not  superior,  to  any  that  we  have  at- 
tended." 

"  Of  course,"  returned  Agnes.  "  Everybody  knows 
that  papa  can  afford  it ;  and  it  would  be  called  mean 
if  we  did  not  excel.    What  do  you  think,  mamma?  " 

"  If  we  give  a  party,  I  would  like  to  have  it  pass 
off  handsomely.  Your  father  is  not  one  to  do  any 
thing  by  halves." 

"  If  we  give  it  ?     Is  n't  it  already  decided  upon  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  spoken  with  your  father  about  it.  He 
has  had  so  many  bills  to  pay  this  winter,"  and  there 
was  a  troubled  expression  on  the  mother's  face. 

"  What  will  people  say  of  us,  if  we  do  not  give 
one  grand  party  during  the  season  ?  " 

"I  do  not  say  we  are  not  to  give  it;  but  I  must 
consult  your  father.  Business  is  exceedingly  dull, 
and  there  is  no  denying  that  our  expenses  are 
enormous." 

*'  If  the  girls  have  a  party,  I  am  to  have  a  supper. 
There  's  Ned  Hawley  and  Dick  Clement  have  given 

C  33 


34  DOWNWAJ^^D   AND    UPWARD. 

Splendid  entertainments.  Jay  and  I  went  to  each. 
It  would  be  shabby  enough  for  us  not  to  invite  them 
in  return,"  and  Cyrus  walked  to  the  mirror,  and  ad- 
justed the  diamond  pin  in  his  shirt  bosom. 

"  I  fear  that  your  father  will  not  be  willing  for 
both." 

"  If  only  one,  it  must  be  the  party,"  cried  the 
girls,  in  a  breath. 

"  How  many  parties  have  you  had  already  ?  and 
we  have  never  had  even  a  supper." 

"  Oh,  Cyrus  !  just  think  of  last  winter  !  " 

"  Little  dinner  parties  for  a  dozen  or  so.  It 's  not 
that  at  all  now.  It  must  be  a  real  smasher,  if  any 
thing.  The  suppers  that  have  been  given  this 
winter  have  each  outdone  anything  ever  known  be- 
fore. Just  the  wine,  Ned  told  me,  cost  as  much  as 
suppers  generally." 

"  It  would  have  been  better  for  the  guests,  if  they 
had  not  provided  quite  as  plentifully,"  said  Agnes, 
in  a  sarcastic  tone. 

"  People  expect  to  be  a  little  wild  and  bizarre 
sometimes,"  and  Cyrus  leaned  over  his  mother's 
chair.  Like  Jay,  he  knew  how  to  coax,  and  thus 
far  he  had  never  been  denied.  He  did  not  expect 
to  be  now. 

"  Say  that  we  have  your  consent,  mother." 

"  For  the  party,  or  for  the  supper  ?  " 

"For  both." 

*'  I  will  see,"  a  thread  of  assurance  running  along 
the  words  that  gave  Cyrus  to  feel  there  was  little 
doubt  about  it. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  35 

"  It 's  as  good  as  settled,"  whispered  Kate  to 
Agnes  ;  "  it  was  silly  in  me  to  think  otherwise.  But 
papa  has  so  much  to  say  about  bills;  and,  indeed,  I 
do  suppose  business  is  very  dull." 

"  What  if  it  is,  we  always  have  plenty.  I  don't 
see  the  use  of  making  such  a  fuss  about  it." 

It  was  a  settled  thing  the  party  was  to  be  given. 
Upholsterers  were  sent  for,  and  the  rooms  freshened 
till  it  was  difficult  for  Mr.  Delafield  to  recognize  that 
he  was  in  his  own  house.  Wilton  carpets  with  vines 
and  bright-hued  flowers  trailing  over  a  white  ground, 
curtains  of  gossamer  fineness,  looped  over  costly 
damask,  and  chandeliers  blazing  with  brilliants. 

"  I  shall  give  Myers  a  '  carte  blanche  '  for  refresh- 
ments; and  now  for  the  dresses,"  said  Mrs.  Delafield. 

Taste  had  full  sway,  and  fancy  was  unchecked. 
Expense  was  not  thought  of,  gratification  was  the 
end  in  view.  Mrs.  Delafield  was  by  no  means  at  ease; 
"and  still  it  is  expected  of  us,"  she  said  to  her  hus- 
band. "  This  is  the  first  season,  and  it  would  hardly 
do  not  to  give  a  party." 

Mrs.  Delafield  was  not,  in  the  ordinary  sense,  a 
manoeuvring  mother :  she  loved  her  daughters,  and 
was  proud  of  the  admiration  that  followed  them. 
She  expected  and  hoped  to  see  them  happily  settled 
in  life,  but  there  was  no  unwomanly  advance  on  her 
part,  neither  undue  anxiety  lest,  like  old  goods,  they 
would  be  left  on  her  hands. 

Coming  into  the  room  one  morning,  and  finding 
Di  busily  engaged  in  retrimming  a  dress  fresh  from 
the  modiste.  Mr.  Delafield  asked  : 


36  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

"And  what  are  you  making  for  yourself,  child?" 

A  deep  blush  crept  up  to  Di's  face  as  she  an- 
swered : 

**  I  do  not  expect  to  go,  sir." 

"What  reason  have  you  for  staying  away,  child?" 

Before  Di  could  frame  an  answer,  Kate  said, 
naively : 

"  It  is  not  necessary  that  Di  comes  out  this  winter, 
papa." 

"Coming  out,  I  know  little  of;  but  as  surely  as 
you  are  there,  Di  makes  one  of  the  party.  Now  tell 
me,  child,  what  would  you  like  to  wear  ?  " 

"  Unless  you  very  much  desire  it,  I  would  rather 
not  go ;  "  and  Di  bent  her  face  still  lower  over  her 
work. 

"  I  do  very  much  desire  it.  I  insist  upon  it.  And 
you  will  wear  —  ?  " 

"  A  plain  white  muslin,"  answered  Di,  in  a  choking 
voice. 

Kate  twirled  her  rings  idly,  and  Agnes  looked  her 
displeasure.  It  had  not  been  in  the  heart  of  either 
to  allow  Di  this  privilege,  and  knowing  that  she 
would  never  mention  it,  they  had  looked  upon  it  as 
a  settled  thing.  Without  being  a  beauty,  Di  had  a 
face  sure  to  win ;  and  Kate  did  not  care  to  find  a 
rival  in  one  upon  whom  she  had  always  looked  as  a 
dependent. 

Mr.  Delafield  had  gone,  and  Di  had  occasion  to 
take  her  work  into  the  next  room. 

"That's  just  like  father,"  said  Kate,  in  a  low 
voice.  "  Di  cannot  wait  upon  us,  and  get  ready  her- 
seh.      I  think  it  is  too  bad." 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  3/ 

"  Di  deserves  a  little  pleasure  as  well  as  the  rest 
of  us,"  Mrs.  Delafield  replied;  "and  if  she  does  not, 
your  father  has  decided,  and  so  it  must  be." 

However  yielding  Mr.  Delafield  was,  it  was  under- 
stood that  when  he  decided  upon  anything,  it  was  to 
be  done.  So  in  this  case  there  was  nothing  to  do 
but  to  order  the  dress.  *'  There  is  one  thing ;  she 
will  not  wish  for  ornaments.  But  how  are  we  to 
introduce  her  ?  She  is  neither  one  thing  nor  the 
other,"  continued  Kate. 

"  Your  father  will  see  to  that.  " 

The  folding-doors  were  ajar.  Di  could  not  help 
but  hear  every  word  distinctly.  Tears  dimmed  her 
eyes,  and  fell  one  by  one  on  the  costly  lace.  "  She 
is  neither  one  thing  nor  the  other."  True ;  she  was 
not  a  servant,  neither  had  she  the  privileges  of  a 
child ;  and  once  more  her  heart  went  back  to  the 
little  dress  folded  away  in  her  trunk.  Had  she  a 
mother?  and  where ?  And  how  came  they  to  be 
separated  ? 

During  this  time  Jay  and  Cyrus  were  making  ar- 
rangements for  a  supper.  It  was  to  be  a  magnificent 
affair,  with  a  goodly  number  of  guests. 

'*  The  ball  first,"  said  Kate ;  and  she  carried  the 
day. 

The  evening  at  length  arrived ;  and  at  a  fashion- 
able hour  the  rooms  were  filled  with  the  elite  of  that 
great  metropolis.  Never  had  Mrs.  Delafield  appeared 
to  better  advantage ;  and  Kate  was  a  vision  of  love- 
liness, winning  admiration  from  every  eye.  Agnes 
was  sparkling  with  life  and  brilliancy.  Never  had 
4 


38  DO  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

happiness  seemed  more  perfect.  The  very  atmos- 
phere was  filled  with  delight. 

Dr.  Landseer  was  there,  his  good  honest  face  lit 
up  with  humor. 

"  I  shall  appropriate  this  little  lady,"  as  he  spied 
Ellen,  enveloped  in  a  cloud  of  pink  tulle  frosted  w^ith 
seed  pearls,  her  light  curls  falling  in  graceful  waves 
over  her  white  shoulders,  her  clear  blue  eyes  filled 
with  the  same  pure  light.  **  I  have  about  as  much 
right  to  her  as  anybody,  I  fancy." 

Herbert  Lyndsey  was  standing  by  the  side  of  Dr. 
Landseer.     Turning  to  Mr.  Delafield,  he  said  : 

"  I  have  the  pleasure  of  an  acquaintance  with  your 
two  oldest  daughters.  Will  you  allow  me  the  same 
privilege  with  the  third  ?  "  at  the  same  time  a  beam- 
ing glance  was  directed  to  Di's  face. 

"  I  am  happy  to  introduce  Mr.  Lyndsey  to  my 
adopted  daughter,  Miss  Delafield." 

The  name  and  the  manner  of  Mr.  Delafield  startled 
Di  more  than  the  expression  on  Mr.  Lyndsey's  face. 
True,  she  had  always  been  known  by  the  family  name 
when  it  was  needful  to  give  a  name  at  school,  or  in 
short  journeys  that  she  had  made;  but  she  was  so 
accustomed  to  being  called  simply  Di,  so  few  formal 
introductions  had  been  made,  that  of  late  she 
had  seemed  to  forget  that  she  had  ever  worn  it. 
"  Merely  that  I  have  no  other,"  was  the  next  thought, 
and  with  effort  Di  controlled  herself  so  as  to  speak 
calmly.  A  more  splendid-looking  couple  were  not 
to  be  seen,  and  Mr.  Delafield  followed  them  with 
delight.     The  plain  white  dress  set  off  Di's  figure  to 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  39 

the  best  advantage,  and  the  absence  of  jewelry  ren- 
dered it  only  the  more  charming. 

Herbert  Lyndsey  had  seen  much  of  the  world. 
An  accomplished  gentleman,  he  also  added  the  grace 
of  a  Christian  character ;  and  so  skilful  was  he  in 
drawing  out  his  companion,  that,  before  many  min- 
utes elapsed,  Di  was  feeling  as  much  at  home  with 
him  as  she  would  have  done  with  Dr.  Landseer, 
laughing  and  chatting  with  the  abandon  of  one  to 
whom  enjoyment  is  a  novelty,  and  still  with  the 
earnestness  of  one  who  feels  that  life  is  not  to  be 
frittered  away  in  selfish  indulgence.  Surprised  at 
herself,  Di  paused  suddenly.  She  had  never  spoken 
so  frankly,  even  to  Mr.  Delafield  and  Dr.  Landseer; 
and  still  it  was  not  of  herself,  but  of  her  teacher,  a 
lady  well  known  to  Mr.  Lyndsey. 

"You  have  not  said  too  much  in  her  praise.  I 
know  her  well ;  and  I  congratulate  you  on  having  the 
benefit  of  her  instruction  and  the  privilege  of  claiming 
her  as  your  friend.  Those  whom  we  love  we  are 
very  apt,  nay,  almost  certain,. to  imitate;  and  I  know 
of  no  one  whose  example  you  can  more  safely 
follow." 

There  was  the  usual  amount  of  light  badinage,  gay 
words,  and  merry  laughter,  and  the  evening  passed  — 
a  joy  to  some,  and  a  sting  to  others. 

**  I  knew  it  would  be  the  way  if  Di  went ;  the  very 
simplicity  of  her  dress  would  have  won,  if  nothing 
more,"  and,  mortified  and  vexed,  the  flush  of  passion 
mantled  the  cheeks  of  Agnes  Delafield;  and  she  up- 
braided   Di    with    artfulness    in    flinging    herself  in 


40  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

Herbert   Lyndsey's    way,   rendering    his    attention 
obligatory. 

"  I  don't  see  what  right  you  have  to  complain," 
said  Jay,  who  had  condescended,  as  Agnes  said,  to 
be  with  them  on  that  particular  evening.  "  You 
seem  to  be  perfectly  oblivious  of  everybody  else 
when  Stanton  is  by.'' 

The  hot  flush  paled  to  marble  whiteness,  and,  chok- 
ing down  her  words,  Agnes  left  the  room. 

Bright  things  the  quickest  fade,  and  soon  the  party 
had  ceased  to  be  a  topic  of  conversation. 

"We  are  to  have  our  party  to-morrow  night;  it 
will  be  a  capital  time,"  and  Cyrus  flung  himself  upon 
the  divan,  and  proceeded  to  enumerate  the  good 
things  in  store  for  them. 

"  As  master  of  ceremonies,  I  trust  you  will  set  an 
"example  worthy  of  imitation,"  replied  Mrs.  Delafield. 

"We  shall  enjoy  ourselves." 

"  It  is  a  fearful  thing  to  think  that  wealth  only 
intensifies  the  influence  we  exert  over  others,"  said 
Di,  looking  up  from  her  work. 

"What  a  pity  Di  is  not  to  be  a  preacher;  she  gets 
off  so  many  wise  things,"  and  Cyrus  gave  a  little 
derisive  laugh  that  brought  the  tears  to  Di's  eyes  in 
spite  of  herself. 

"  Di  only  wishes  to  remind  you  that  you  have  an 
influence,  and  that  you  should  be  careful  how  you 
use  it." 

"  Everybody  has  to  be  a  little  wild  when  they  are 
young,  mother." 

Mrs.  Delafield  was  not  a  religious    woman ;    but 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  41 

she  could  not  deny  that  her  sons  were  living  fast,  and, 
from  listening  to  her  husband,  she  began  to  fear, — 
desiring  to  turn,  and  still  not  knowing  just  where  to 
begin,  or,  if  she  had  known,  with  not  sufficient  courage 
to  bring  it  about. 

The  supper  came  off  as  most  suppers  do,  —  the 
guests  more  or  less  oblivious  as  they  left  the  table. 
Jay  managed  to  reach  home  ;  but  the  next  day  he 
did  not  leave  his  bed.  Cyrus  was  slightly  bettor, 
and  the  father  was  exasperated  beyond  measure. 
4* 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LOOKING    FORWARD. 

AS  the  spring  advanced  Ellen  grew  stron^v.r,  and 
was  treated  to  frequent  drives ;  twice  had  she 
accompanied  Di  to  church. 

"  It  will  be  strange  if  the  little  girl  disappoints  us 
after  all,"  said  Dr.  Landseer,  as  he  came  up  with 
them  on  the  way  to  church.  "  There  was  a  time  when 
I  never  expected  to  see  her  able  to  take  this  walk." 

"  There  was  a  time  when  I  never  expected  to  take 
it,"  and  the  blue  eyes  filled.  **  Di  says  her  teacher 
used  to  tell  her  that  a  certain  amount  of  chiselling  is 
necessary,  and  that  illness  is  just  to  round  the  sharp 
corners.     I  wonder  if  it  is  so  ?  " 

"  Illness,  and  the  sharp  strain  of  trouble  of  any 
kind,  are  intended  as  polishers.  Gold  is  flung  into 
the  fire ;  diamonds  have  to  be  cut." 

"  How  is  it  with  those  who  never  have  trouble?  " 
and  Di  looked  up. 

"  There  is  trouble,  and  sorrow,  and  bitterness  in 
every  cup  :  some  make  a  wry  face,  and  by  that  means 
give  others  to  understand  how  bitter  it  is ;  others 
take  it  without  a  change  of  muscle  ;  and  still  others 
drink  to  the  dregs  with  a  smiling  face,  because  their 
Father  holds  the  cup,  and  he  knows  best." 

42 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  43 

"  I  would  like  to  be  one  of  these,"  said  Ellen,  in  an 
earnest  voice. 

"  You  may  be,  if  you  like.  We  may  not  only  wish 
to  be,  but  we  may  ask  to  be.  God  likes  us  to  ask 
him  for  everything  we  wish." 

**  Di  has  told  me  this." 

**  I  am  glad  Di  has  learned  this." 

**  I  am  afraid  I  do  not  realize  it  in  my  own  case. 
Dr.  Landseer.  It  is  the  echo  of  what  I  have  been 
taught,  perhaps,"  replied  Di. 

**  Do  you  think  everything  that  happens  to  us  is 
for  our  good  ?  "  asked  Ellen. 

"  We  are  assured  that  everything  is  for  good  to 
them  that  love  God." 

**  But  what  if  we  don't?  "  and  there  was  a  touch  of 
sadness  that  sank  into  the  doctor's  heart. 

They  had  reached  the  church,  and,  following  Dr. 
Landseer,  Di  and  Ellen  were  seated  in  his  pew. 
They  did  not  feel  like  strangers, —  the.  clergyman's 
face  was  familiar,  and  there  were  many  in  the  audience 
that  seemed  like  friends. 

The  discourse  touched  upon  the  love  of  Jesus,  the 
tenderness  he  manifested  for  the  guilty  and  unde- 
serving, the  miracles  he  performed  for  the  benefit  of 
the  poor  and  the  suffering.  "  And  the  most  tender 
and  beautiful  of  all,"  the  speaker  continued,  ''  was 
the  cursing  of  the  fig-tree.  Jesus  did  not  take  a 
sinner  and  make  him  the  monument  of  his  dis- 
pleasure, but  a  tree,  with  no  feeling  to  be  wounded, 
no  heart  to  throb  with  emotion,  no  wounds  to  be 
healed ;  and  still  this  tree,  not  capable  of  feeling  in 


44  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

itself,  was  to  stand  as  a  beacon  for  those  who  could 
feel,  an  example  to  those  who  had  not  improved  the 
privileges  granted  them,  rejected  the  blessed  assur- 
ance of  his  love  and  mercy.  And  this  love,  so  tender, 
so  sympathetic,  we  may  all  have.  Not  a  heart  but 
has  some  secret  sorrow,  some  dark  skeleton-chamber. 
When  the  waves  of  sorrow  roll  over  us  we  are 
privileged  to  go  to  this  same  Jesus,  casting  all  our 
care  upon  him.  How  sweet  to  know  that  we  are 
not  obliged  to  carry  these  burdens.  Ask :  he  will 
help  ;  he  will  not  take  it  all,  leaving  us  no  part  in  the 
labor;  he  will  give  us  something  to  do  and  some- 
thing to  suffer.  But  so  sweetly  will  he  reach  out  his 
hand,  lifting  us  over  the  rugged  places,  the  burden 
will  not  be  felt." 

A  thoughtful  look  was  on  Ellen's  face,  and  Di's 
eyes  were  full  of  a  new  light.  The  skeleton  in  each 
heart  was  an  answer  to  her  question  with  reference 
to  those  who  never  have  trouble.  Di  was  conscious 
there  was  a  secret  chamber  in  her  own  heart,  a  re- 
cess hidden  away  from  all  eyes,  and  into  which  she 
hardly  dare  to  enter ;  and  once  again  she  thought  of 
the  small  dress,  and  the  yearning,  anguished  feeling 
as  she  pressed  with  trembling  fingers  the  silken 
folds.  How  many  tears  she  had  shed  over  it,  Jesus 
knew  it  all.  He  knew  the  circumstances ;  and  he 
was  tender  and  sympathizing  with  those  who  suf- 
fered. It  had  never  looked  so  plain  to  her  before ; 
she  would  go  to  him  and  tell  him  all  of  her  sorrow. 

Dr.  Landseer  left  them  at  their  own  door;  and 
Ellen  could  not  rest  till  she  had  found  her  father, 


D  OWN  WARD   AND    UPWARD.  45 

and  told  him  of  the  sermon,  and  what  Mr.  Parton 
said  of  Jesus  and  of  the  withered  fig-tree. 

"  Do  you  love  Jesus,  papa  ?  " 

Mr.  Delafield  had  not  expected  such  a  question, 
and  he  did  not  answer  until  it  was  repeated. 

"  Certainly,  my  child  ;  everybody  loves  Jesus." 

"  But,  papa,  I  mean  do  you  love  him  better  than 
anything  else  in  the  world  ?  better  than  you  love 
me,  papa?  " 

*'  Would  you  like  me  to  love  him  better  than  I 
love  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  papa,  because  he  gave  me  to  you ;  and 
sometime,  perhaps,  he  will  take  me  away  from  you." 

''  I  do  love  him  for  this,  and  I  hope  he  will  not 
take  you  from  papa.  You  must  not  think  of  such 
gloomy  things.  God  is  too  good  to  make  us  un- 
happy." 

*^  He  is  good,  Mr.  Parton  says,  if  we  love  him. 
But  if  we  don't,  he  is  terrible.  I  could  not  bear  to 
have  him  angry  with  me,  papa." 

"  He  could  not  be  angry  with  you,  child." 

"  But,  papa,  the  Bible  says  everybody's  heart  is 
wacked,  everybody's  heart  must  be  washed  in  the 
blood  of  Jesus.  I  do  want  mine  white,  papa.  I 
don't  want  any  little  spots  left.  Don't  you  want 
your  heart  clean,  papa  ?  " 

Mr.  Delafield  winced  under  Pollen's  questioning, 
and  he  was  glad  when  a  summons  to  lunch  changed 
the  conversation.  Di  had  been  to  her  own  room ; 
troubled  and  lonely,  she  had  now  a  friend  to  go  to. 
Jesus  knew,  and  it  comforted  her. 


46  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

As  the  days  wore  on,  parties  were  less  frequent. 
The  fashionable  world  had  already  begun  to  plan 
what  they  would  do  for  the  summer.  Kate  and 
Agnes  Delafield  were  busy  in  arranging.  Herbert 
Lyndsey  was  now  a  regular  caller ;  but  almost  inva- 
riably Dr.  Landseer  dropped  in  at  the  same  time, 
and  then  Di  and  Ellen  were  called  down.  It  was 
unavoidable,  Kate  said,  and  Agnes  did  not  allow  her 
ill-humor  to  show  itself.  Not  only  this,  Mr.  Stanton 
had  made  a  decided  impression ;  and  although  Mr. 
Delafield  had  forbidden  him  the  house,  there  were 
innumerable  billets  and  stolen  interviews. 

Capricious,  and  dissatisfied  with  what  she  con- 
sidered too  rigid  severity,  Agnes  passed  entire 
days  in  her  room.  At  such  times  Di  endeavored, 
with  every  means  in  her  power,  to  win  her  thoughts 
into  a  different  channel.  Sometimes  she  was  in- 
duced to  join  Ellen  in  her  drives ;  and  on  these  occa- 
sions she  seldom  returned  without  visible  improve- 
ment in  her  mood. 

It  had  been  a  long  day.  One  of  those  peculiar 
spring  days,  when  the  air  is  balmy  with  the  per- 
fume of  resinous  buds,  the  deep  rich  mould  giving 
out  an  odorous  breath.  Ellen  had  been  unusually 
bright  all  the  morning,  and  a  drive  was  decided 
upon 

"  I  give  you  the  open  carriage,"  said  Mr.  Delafield. 
**  It  affords  a  more  extended  view;  and  I  am  a  little 
fearful  about  the  horses,"  patting  the  noble  animals 
on  the  neck. 

"  If  you  think  there  is  danger,  they  must  not  go;  " 
and  a  look  of  anxiety  rested  on  Mrs.  Delafield's  face 


D  O  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  47 

"  They  were  recommended  to  me  as  being  per- 
fectly safe,  and  Dixon  is  a  good  driver ;  "  and  Mr. 
Delafield  handed  Agnes  and  Ellen  to  the  back  seat. 
Di  sprang  in  without  a  word,  and  took  her  place  in 
front.  Their  route  led  them  out  of  town,  skirting 
green  fields.  The  tinkling  of  cow-bells  was  heard 
in  the  valleys,  and  lambs  were  skipping  over  beds 
of  clover.  At  the  farm-houses,  doors  and  windows 
were  open.  Nature  seemed  animate  within  and  with- 
out. Ellen  was  continually  spying  some  new  object 
of  delight;  and  Agnes  forgot  her  moodiness,  and 
gave  free  vent  to  the  pleasure  she  enjoyed. 

They  were  passing  a  rustic  bridge  that  spanned  a 
deep  ravine.  A  narrow  stream  trickled  through  it, 
and  trees  and  vines  were  putting  on  their  summer 
dress  of  leaves.  In  the  distance  it  widened  into  a 
circular  basin,  the  water,  smooth  as  a  steel  mirror, 
breaking  over  a  barrier,  and  made  to  turn  a  mill, 
the  great  wheel  still  in  motion.  Near  it  was  a  school- 
house,  with  a  few  children  lingering  in  groups  of 
three  and  four. 

"  How  happy  they  must  be !  "  cried  Ellen.  *'  I 
half  envy  them  the  use  of  their  feet." 

"  And  they,  no  doubt,  fancy  that  you  are  blessed 
with  everything  that  human  heart  can  wish  ;  "  and 
the  tears  were  in  Di's  eyes.  Yes,  she  was  thinking 
of  the  skeleton-chamber  in  each  heart.  Ellen  did 
not  know  that,  but  she  saw  the  tears. 

"  And  so  I  am.  It  is  not  every  one  who  has  so 
many  to  love  them  as  I  have." 

Each  step  brought  them  within  the  range  of  some 


48  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

new  object;  but  the  day  was  fading:  it  would  not 
do  to  prolong  their  drive. 

'*  We  must  turn  here,"  said  Dixon. 

Agnes  wanted  to  go  farther.  There  was  a  little 
discussion,  and  Dixon  turned. 

"  I  can  go  home  by  another  route,  if  it  please  you," 
he  said  to  Agnes,  with  an  attempt  to  pacify. 

"  It  makes  little  difference.  I  never  have  any 
thing  as  1  want  it ;  "  and  the  voice  was  sharp  and 
pettish. 

Di  was  hurt,  and  Ellen  grew  silent.  The  shadows 
lengthened,  and  the  brown  road  was  flecked  with 
sunshine.  They  were  in  sight  of  the  town,  when 
Agnes  caught  sight  of  a  clump  of  laurel,  the  last 
red  rays  gilding  the  dark-green  leaves,  and  adding 
beauty  to  the  blossoms. 

"  Stop,  Dixon.     I  must  have  some  laurel." 

**  I  dare  not  leave  the  horses,  Miss  Agnes.  They 
know  they  are  going  home,  and  it  makes  them  spir- 
ited." 

"  You  have  become  very  careful  all  at  once. 
You  could  get  out  easy  enough  when  Di  wanted 
flowers." 

*'  It  makes  all  the  difference  when  they  are  headed 
for  the  stable,  miss."    ■ 

"Very  well.  If  you  won't  stop,  I'll  jump  out;" 
and  Agnes's  voice  was  husky  with  passion. 

Di  knew  that  remonstrance  would  only  exas- 
perate ;  but  Ellen  begged  her  to  sit  still. 

"  If  you  say  I  must,  I  must.  But  indeed,  miss,  it 
is  not  safe,"  Dixon  said. 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  49 

"  I  must  have  some  laurel ;  and  if  any  blame  comes 
of  it,  I  will  bear  it,"  returned  Agnes. 

**  Let  me  hold  the  reins,"  said  Di. 

"  You  may  put  your  hand  over  them,  but  not  to 
move  them.  I  will  keep  talking  to  the  horses.  They 
know  me;  and  it  won't  take  me  a  minute." 

Dixon  had  barely  reached  the  laurel-bush,  looking 
back  and  speaking  to  his  horses  as  though  they  were 
reasonable  beings,  when  a  gun  went  off  in  a  neigh- 
boring field.  At  the  same  instant  a  hound  bounded 
over  the  fence  and  across  the  road,  directly  in  front 
of  the  horses.  Frightened,  Dixon  turned.  It  was 
too  late.  The  horses  were  going  at  a  furious  rate. 
With  the  first  dash,  Agnes  gave  a  piercing  scream 
and  fell  back  into  her  seat. 

"  Put  your  arm  around  Ellen,  and  make  no  noise," 
Di  said,  in  a  commanding  tone ;  at  the  same  time 
she  grasped  the  reins  tightly.  There  was  little 
strength  in  her  hands  to  stay  their  speed ;  but  she 
was  confident  that  she  could  guide  them.  Fortu- 
nately, the  road  was  broad,  and  it  was  possible  that 
she  could  check  them.  Planting  her  feet  firmly 
against  the  footboard,  she  threw  herself  backward, 
dragging  with  all  her  weight  upon  the  lines.  It  was 
no  use.  Faster  and  faster  they  went.  Fear  lent  her 
strength,  and  presence  of  mind  did  not  desert  her. 
She  knew  the  location  of  the  stables.  In  all  proba- 
bility they  would  take  that  direction.  In  her  excite- 
ment, her  hat  fell  off,  and  her  long  dark  hair  was 
streaminof  in  the  wind.  Vehicles  bea;an  to  meet  them, 
land  it  required  all  her  power  to  keep  from  collision. 
5  D 


50  D  OWN  WARD  AND    UPWARD. 

Dashing  along  so  rapidly,  hatless,  and  still  guiding, 
she  began  to  attract  the  attention  of  people  on  the 
pavement,  and  several  rushed  into  the  street.  The 
horses  shied  a  little,  and  kept  on.  This  was  no  ad- 
vantage, and  the  heroic  girl  began  to  think  that  all 
was  lost,  when  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  Dr.  Land- 
seer. 

"  Turn  the  first  corner.     It  will  save  you,  perhaps." 

"  Do  not  let  them  take  the  direction  of  the  bridge," 
cried  another. 

There  was  encouragement  in  the  words.  Di  felt 
her  hands  growing  firm.  Her  vision  was  clear. 
Could  she  make  the  turn  ?  She  saw  at  a  glance  the 
doctor's  meaning.  The  stable  was  in  sight.  There 
was  no  time  for  delay.  Her  whole  force  was  thrown 
upon  the  rein.  The  turn  was  made ;  but  so  quickly, 
it  seemed  a  miracle  the  carriage  was  not  overthrown. 
Great  beads  of  perspiration  stood  upon  her  face  as 
the  horses  dashed  into  the  stable,  and  a  dozen  pair 
of  hands  were  ready  to  lift  her  out. 

**  You  have  done  bravely.  I  did  n't  expect  it," 
meeting  her  on  all  sides. 

Dr.  Landseer  came  up  puffing  and  out  of  breath, 
and  with  him  Herbert  Lyndsey. 

"  Who  would  have  thought  it  possible  !  How  in 
the  seven  wonders  did  Delafield  let  you  come  out 
with  those  horses  ?  " 

Mr.  Lyndsey  brushed  the  dust  out  of  his  eyes, 
and  gave  his  attention  to  Agnes  and  Ellen. 

"  I  would  not  have  been  so  frightened  for  the 
world.     I  shall  never  get  over  it,"  and  Agnes  shook 


DO  WAYWARD   AND    UPWARD.  5  I 

out  the  folds  of  her  dress  and  adjusted  her  coquettish 
little  hat. 

"  You  ought  to  be  very  thankful  that  your  bones 
are  not  broken,  Miss  Agnes.  How  is  it  with  you, 
Ellen?     Were  you  much  frightened?  " 

*'  I  just  shut  up  my  eyes  and  asked  that  Di  might 
bring  us  in  safely." 

**  And  now  let  me  take  you  home,"  said  Dr.  Land- 
seer,  as  Di  gave  an  account  of  the  affair,  careful  not 
to  throw  any  blame  upon  Agnes.  Dixon  came  up 
in  the  mean  time,  the  tears  rolling  down  his  bronzed 
cheeks  as  he  saw  them  all  safe. 

"  I  just  expected  every  minute  to  see  them  dashed 
in  pieces.  I  had  no  idea  Di  knew  so  well  what  to 
do." 

"  Di  is  a  brave  little  woman.  Drive  us  home, 
Dixon.'* 


CHAPTER  V. 

HELPING   THE    DOCTOR.       . 

WOULD   you    like   a   ride   this  morning,  little 
woman  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Landseer,  as  he  caught 
sight  of  Di's  face  under  the  lilac-trees. 

A  laughing  rejoinder,  and  Di  came  forward  and 
laid  both  hands  in  the  doctor's  broad  palm. 

"  To  be  serious,  little  woman,  I  have  a  case  that 
interests  me  exceedingly.  You  remember  the  young 
carpenter  of  whom  Mr.  Parton  spoke  ?  The  week 
after  your  famous  drive,  he  fell  from  the  scaffolding 
of  a  building,  and  injured  himself  so  badly  that  am- 
putation was  necessary.  He  has  been  doing  as  well 
as  could  be  expected,  until  about  a  week  since ; 
through  nervous  excitement,  or  something  else,  he 
is  running  down  fast.  I  thought  perhaps  a  little 
cheerful  company,  a  few  flowers,  and  a  little  singing, 
would  brighten  up  the  day  for  him.     Can  you  go  ?  " 

"  Let  me  run  up  and  ask  Mrs.  Delafield." 

In  a  moment  Di  was  back,  ready  shawled  and 
bonneted,  slipping  on  her  gloves  as  she  walked  to 
the  gate. 

It  was  not  far  to  the  house, —  the  corner  one  in  a 
long  row  of  tenements. 

5* 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  53 

"When  Mrs.  Clayton  was  a  young  girl,  her  home 
was  very  different  from  this.  Her  husband  was  an 
honest  man  :  he  failed  in  business,  and  everything 
was  given  up.  Grant  is  very  like  his  father,  with  a 
strict  piety,  and  a  craving  for  knowledge  that  I  have 
seldom  seen  equalled,"  said  Dr.  Landseer,  as  he 
reined  in  his  horse  and  handed  Di  to  the  pavement. 

With  a  slight  rap  at  the  brown  door,  Mrs.  Clayton 
made  her  ^pearance. 

**  How  is  Grant  this  morning?  "  was  the  doctor's 
salutation. 

**  He  passed  a  restless  night;  but  he  seems  more 
quiet  this  morning." 

"  Here  is  a  little  woman  that  I  have  brought  to 
see  you.  She  is  a  cheerful  little  body,  and  understands 
nursing ;  you  may  call  her  Daisy,  and  begin  at  once 
to  feel  that  you  have  known  her  a  long  time." 

This  was  all  the  introduction  needed ;  and  Di, 
or  Daisy,  as  the  doctor  called  her,  was  soon  talking 
with  Grant  quite  as  easily  as  she  would  have  done 
with  Ellen,  holding  her  flowers  so  that  the  invalid 
could  inhale  their  breath  all  the  while  that  the 
doctor  was  removing  the  bandages,  making  exami- 
nations, and  renewing  remedies. 

"  There !  you  feel  better,  I  know,"  and  the  doctor 
took  the  hand  of  his  patient.  '*  You  are  fond  of 
music.  Grant:  Daisy  knows  how  to  sing.  I  am  to 
leave  her  here  while  I  look  at  another  patient 
farther  on ;  and  for  fear  that  she  '11  tire  you  with  her 
talk,  I  shall  ask  her  to  sing." 

Di  did  not  wait  for  the  doctor  to  leave  the  room 
5* 


54  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

before  she  began,  striking  into  a  cheerful  little  hymn 
which  she  was  accustomed  to  sing  to  Ellen. 

Very  bright  and  cheerful  Grant  looked  when  Dr. 
Landseer  returned, 

*'  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  you  have  enjoyed  the 
music;"  and  once  more  the  doctor  lifted  the  thin 
hand. 

"  Very  much.     I  shall  think  of  it  all  day." 

"And  not  long  before  Daisy  will  repeat  her  visit, 
and  the  flowers  will  need  replenishing." 

"  We  could  hardly  expect  her  to  take  that  trouble," 
said  the  invalid. 

"  It  is  not  a  trouble  for  Daisy  to  do  anything  that 
gives  pleasure." 

Di's  eyes  turned  gratefully  to  the  doctor,  mutely 
thanking  him  for  his  appreciation  of  her  willingness; 
and  then,  with  a  charming  blending  of  kindness 
and  timidity,  she  said  to  Mrs.  Clayton,  "  I  know  a 
little  of  nursing,  and  the  days  of  convalescence  re- 
quire quite  as  much  skill  as  severe  illness.  You  will 
not  forget,  if  in  any  manner  I  can  serve  you." 

"  I  am  happier  for  this  visit,"  said  Daisy,  as  she 
found  herself  in  the  buggy  by  the  side  of  Dr.  Land- 
seer. 

"  Improving  opportunities,  Daisy  ;  concentration 
of  thought  upon  one's  own  gratification  dwarfs  the 
intellect  and  deadens  moral  perception.  To  interest 
ourselves  in  the  welfare  of  those  around  us  is  to  do 
as  Jesus  did, —  he  went  about  doing  good.  It  is  ours 
to  do  as  he  did ;  and  the  very  effort,  weak  as  it  may 
be,  promotes  our  own  happiness   and  increases  that 


D  0  WN IV A  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  RD.  55 

of  our  neighbors.  It  was  not  much  for  you, —  a  few 
flowers,  a  look,  a  word,  a  song;  your  own  heart  is 
lighter,  and  Grant  and  his  mother  will  be  happier 
all  day." 

**  Where  have  you  been  all  the  morning  ?  "  asked 
Agnes,  as  she  saw  Di  spring  out  of  the  buggy  and 
enter  the  house. 

"  I  have  been  with  Dr.  Landseer  to  see  a  patient." 

"  You  and  the  doctor  are  inseparable  these  days. 
I  do  not  think  it  looks  well  to  see  a  young  girl 
running  about  in  this  manner.  I  wonder  mamma 
permits  it." 

"  I  have  not  seen  Dr.  Landseer  for  some  time. 
He  has  a  patient  whom  he  thought  I  could  benefit; 
and  your  mother  was  willing  that  I  should  go." 

"Of  course;  of  course  it's  all  right;  it  always  is. 
By-the-way,  had  you  been  here,  you  would  have  seen 
your  friend,  Mr.  Lyndsey." 

Di's  cheeks  were  scarlet  as  she  ran  up  the  stairs, 
and  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  Several  times  Agnes 
had  taunted  her  with  a  desire  to  meet  the  young 
lawyer.  She  knew  that  it  was  done  maliciously, 
and  this  morning  she  was  not  in  a  mood  to  bear 
it  patiently. 

**  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come,  Di,"  and  Ellen 
held  up  her  flushed  face  for  a  kiss. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  pet  ?  What  troubles  you  ?  " 
arid  Di  forgot  her  annoyance  in  her  efforts  to  com- 
fort Ellen. 

"  Oh,  Di,  we  have  had  such  a  time ;  and  mamma  is 
crying   in    her   room.      Jay    came   to    mamma    for 


$6  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WAR  D. 

money,  and  papa  heard  him ;  and  he  called  Jay  into 
his  room,  and  such  a  talk  as  they  had.  Papa  said 
Jay  must  play,  or  he  could  not  spend  so  much,  and 
if  he  did  n't  stop,  we  should  all  be  beggars.  Jay  was 
angry,  and  said  that  Agnes  spent  as  much  as  he  did. 
And  then  papa  read  over  the  bills, —  a  great  roll  of 
them, — that  he  had  paid  within  the  week.  Oh,  Di !  I 
do  not  see  how  Jay  and  Cyrus  can  do  this,  when  it 
makes  mamma  feel  so  badly;  and  papa's  face  was  as 
white  as  it  could  be." 

There  was  little  to  be  said ;  and  to  quiet  Ellen,  Di 
told  her  of  the  family  she  had  been  to  see, —  of 
Grant's  misfortune  in  losing  his  limb,  and  how  badly 
he  felt  about  it. 

"  It  seems  strange  that  some  people  have  every- 
thing, and  others  so  little.  Grant  has  had  to  work 
for  a  living,  and  Jay  has  papa  to  care  for  him  ;  "  and 
Ellen  puzzled  her  brain  over  a  question  that  has 
often  troubled  older  heads. 

"It  is  God's  way,"  replied  Di.  "If  it  wasn't  for 
this,  it  would  look  strange.  I  like  to  think  that  he 
knows  best." 

"  I  am  sure  I  will  not  trouble  papa.  Mr.  Parton 
said  we  could  go  and  tell  Jesus  all  our  troubles.  If 
papa  would  only  tell  him.  I  wonder  if  he  ever 
does  ?" 

"I  hope  so,  Ellen." 

"  Do  you  tell  him  everything,  Di  ?  " 

•'  I  try  to  tell  him:  sometimes  I  don't,"  and  Di  was 
conscious  there  were  thoughts  that  stung  her  into 
unrest, —  thoughts  that  she  did  not  dare  to  breathe; 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  57 

not  realizing  that  she  had  a  friend  who  could  be 
touched  with  her  sorrow,  a  friend  who  had  the 
power  to  help,  and  in  whose  care  and  sympathy  she 
would  find  strength.  She  knew  this  in  theory,  and 
she  felt  it  in  part ;  but  the  scales  had  not  fallen  from 
her  eyes,  the  beauty  of  his  countenance  was  not 
fully  revealed  to  her. 

Too  sad  for  words,  Di  took  her  little  charge  into 
the  garden. 

"  If  God  did  not  love  us,  he  would  never  have 
made  so  many  lovely  flowers,  little  keepsakes  to 
remember  him  by,"  and  Ellen  stooped  to  the  hya- 
cinths, patting  and  caressing  them  as  friends. 

"  The  first  spring  flowers  have  a  charm  for  me 
that  I  never  feel  at  any  other  time,  and  their  sweet- 
ness seems  deeper,"  and  Di  gathered  heart's-ease 
and  fastened  them  in  Ellen's  curls. 

"  God  made  the  weeds,  as  he  did  the  flowers,  Di." 

*'*  Weeds  have  their  use ;  it  is  possible  that,  if  we 
understood  them  better,  we  should  see  that  they  are 
to  be  prized  just  as  much  as  the  flowers." 

"  If  I  could  choose,  I  would  not  be  a  weed,"  and 
Ellen  stirred  the  earth  about  the  bulbous  roots. 
.    "The  honor  is  not  in  the  flower,  neither  in  the 
weed ;  but   in    living    and    growing  just  where    his 
hand  placed  it." 

"  Would  you  as  soon  be  one  as  the  other,  Di  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  that  I  like  to  choose ;  and  still  I  see 
a  beauty  in  willingness  to  be  just  what  He  would 
have  me  be." 

The  next  morning   Ellen  accompanied  Daisy  on 


58  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

her  second  visit  to  the  invalid,  Mrs.  Clayton  was  a 
woman  of  culture;  and  in  the  interchange  of  thought 
and  feeling,  Daisy  found  there  were  suggestions  and 
half-spoken  thoughts  on  which  she  could  mount  like 
golden  stairs.  Edna  Clayton  was  not  as  old  as 
Ellen,  but,  by  reason  of  good  health,  she  seemed 
older,  —  a  bright,  active  child,  with  a  mind  open  to 
the  influences  around  her,  a  child  to  profit  by  oppor- 
tunity. 

As  Grant  grew  stronger,  Daisy  was  surprised  with 
the  beauty  of  his  speech ;  the  thirst  for  knowledge 
that  he  manifested,  the  eagerness  to  do  something  for 
his  mother's  sake ;  above  all,  the  deep,  earnest  piety 
that  characterized  him.  Not  unfrequently  Mr.  Parton 
made  one  of  the  number,  and  her  soul  drank  in  new 
life  from  his  well  chosen  words. 

**  Severe  as  this  affliction  has  proved,  there  is  no 
doubt  but  it  was  to  advance  your  highest  good  here 
and  hereafter,"  Mr.  Parton  said,  as  Grant  talked  of 
the  accident,  and  his  fears  that  it  would  unfit  him  for 
a  life  of  labor.  ''  Confined  within  these  walls,  and  suf- 
fering, as  you  have  done,  the  loss  of  a  limb,  it  may 
have  saved  you  from  a  more  fearful  calamity." 

*'  I  have  tried  to  think  of  this,"  continued  Grant, 
in  a  lower  tone.  "  I  was  planning  and  hoping  for  so 
much.  Leaning  upon  myself,  I  saw  so  much  to  be 
done,  and  I  felt  that  I  could  do  it.  God  saw  other- 
wise." 

"  Rest  assured  his  way  is  the  best  way." 

"To  work  by  day  and  to  study  at  night  was  my 
plan.     It  is  doubtful  if  I  can  do  either  now." 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  $9 

"Will  you  be  willing  to  let  him  open  the  way?" 

"  I  have  only  strength  to  accept  what  he  gives." 

"The  trial  will  be  in  waiting." 

A  smile  shot  over  Grant's  pale  face.  "  I  see  the 
force  of  your  remarks.  I  will  do  my  best  to  wait 
patiently." 

Through  the  golden  sunshine  to  her  own  dwelling, 
Daisy  was  not  thinking  of  herself,  a  new  revelation  was 
open  to  her.  She  had  never  looked  upon  Grant's 
accident  as  a  mercy.  It  seemed  dark  and  afflictive. 
Was  it  to  save  him  from  something  worse  ?  and  she 
recalled  Mr.  Parton's  words.  From  how  many  pit- 
falls we  are  turned  aside;  from  how  many  preci- 
pices and  deep,  yawning  chasms  we  are  suddenly 
drawn  back,  it  is  impossible  to  tell.  But  this  we 
know,  that  as  children  depend  upon  their  parents  for 
care  and  a  watchful  foresight,  so  we  are  privileged  to 
look  to  our  heavenly  Father,  secure  and  confident  in 
his  love. 

In  thinking  of  Grant,  her  own  history  came  up 
before  her.  Was  it  in  mercy  that  she  was  left  alone 
and  friendless  ?  Was  it  to  escape  a  greater  evil  ? 
and  tears  bathed  the  ruddy  face.  Was  it  in  mercy 
to  her  or  to  her  parents  ?  For,  strange  as  it  may 
seem,  Daisy  never  thought  of  her  parents  as  dead. 
Not  a  night  but  she  dreamed  of  them.  Not  a  day 
but  visions  of  a  mother's  love  softened  and  illuminated 
the  path.  Not  a  sharp  word  but  had  its  counterpart 
in  the  unspoken  tenderness  of  her  day  dreaming.  She 
might  never  meet  them.  She  hardly  knew  that  she 
expected  this  privilege.     It  was  bliss  enough  to  think 


6o  DO  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

there  were  hearts  beating  for  her;  and  her  own 
throbbed  with  a  stronger,  healthier  movement 

"  If  papa  didn't  have  so  much  to  pay  for  Jay,  he 
would  n't  mind  helping  Grant,"  and  Ellen's  blue  eyes 
were  full  of  tenderness.  "  There  are  a  good  many 
things  that  I  can  do  without,  Di;  and  it  won't  trouble 
papa." 

"  An  education  is  not  won  without  time  as  well  as 
money :  to  help  effectually,  it  must  be  continued. 
One  act  of  self-denial,  however  praiseworthy  and 
easily  borne,  might  become  a  fetter,  if  one  was  called 
upon  to  repeat  it." 

"  But  I  do  not  care  about  much  ;  and  it  will  be  a 
good  while  before  I  come  *  out,'  as  Kate  calls  it." 

''  Before  you  think  about  it,  talk  with  your  father; 
he  will  tell  you  if  it  can  be  done  readily." 

After  tea,  as  Ellen  sat  by  the  side  of  her  father,  she 
suddenly  asked,  "  How  much  does  it  cost  to  study  a 
profession,  papa?" 

"  Some  people  make  a  profession  with  very  little 
study,"  replied  Mr.  Delafield,  with  a  laugh. 

"  I  mean  to  go  through  college,  papa." 

"Are  you  thinking  to  go  through  college,  Ellen? 
or  is  it  Di?  "  asked  Cyrus,  playfully. 

"  Counting  the  cost  merely,"  said  Di.  with  a  smile. 

"You  might  ask  Mr.  Lyndsey,"  said  Kate.  "  I  am 
told  that  he  had  hard  work  to  get  through  with  his 
studies.  He  came  into  the  possession  of  his  prop- 
erty since  he  graduated." 

*'  I  wonder  why  you  always  answer  Di  in  this 
manner,"  and  Ellen's  cheeks  were  crimson.     "  It  is 


no  JVNH^ARD   AND    UPWARD.  6l 

no  sign  that  she  wants  to  go  through  college,  be- 
cause I  asked  a  simple  question.  But  I  know  of 
somebody  that  does  ;  may  I  tell  you  who  it  is,  papa?" 

"  Certainly,  my  child." 

In  her  own  way,  Ellen  went  on  to  speak  of  Grant 
Clayton,  and  the  desire  he  had  to  study.  Edna  said 
that  before  his  fall  he  used  to  sit  up  nearly  all  night 
to  study  his  lessons;  and  when  his  mother  begged 
him  to  go  to  bed,  he  always  answered  that  he  was 
not  a  bit  sleepy,  and  in  the  morning  he  went  to  his 
work  just  the  same.  It  seems  to  me  strange  that 
God  would  let  him  fall  when  he  was  trying  so  hard," 
and  Ellen  looked  wistfully  into  her  father's  face. 

Mr.  Delafield  was  not  usually  sensitive  to  the  honor 
of  God ;  but  it  was  a  new  thing  to  hear  Ellen  ques- 
tion his  acts. 

*'  God  knows  best,  my  child." 

"  If  he  does,  why  does  he  give  Jay  so  much  and 
Grant  so  little  ?  " 

The  idea  of  God's  giving  was  not  recognized  by 
Mr.  Delafield.  It  was  his  own  giving  by  which  Jay 
had  so  much.  Grant's  father  was  not  a  successful 
business  man.     He  died  poor. 

**  Papa,"  and  the  soft  arms  were  clinging  round 
the  father's  neck ;  "  papa,  how  much  do  I  cost 
you  ?  " 

**  You  cost  me  a  heart  full  of  love  and  anxiety." 

"  Not  that,  papa.  How  much  money  do  I  cost 
you  ?     Do  I  cost  enough  to  make  you  feel  badly  ?  " 

"Papa's   little  girl  has   not  been    an   expense    to 
him." 
6 


62  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

"  I  am  glad,  papa ;  for  I  do  want  to  ask  for  a 
little  money.     Will  you  dislike  me  to  ask,  papa?" 

"  I  can  better  tell  when  I  know  for  what  purpose 
you  want  it." 

"  Grant  can  never  work  as  he  did  before  his  fall ; 
but  he  can  study.     I  would  like  to  help  him,  papa." 

"  Are  you  sure  Grant  wants  to  study  ?  " 

"  Yes,  papa.  I  have  seen  the  tears  run  down  his 
cheeks  when  he  talked  of  this,  and  how  impossible 
it  would  be  for  him  to  do  it  now." 

"  And  you  want  to  give  him  the  money  that  I 
might  otherwise  give  to  you?  " 

*'  Yes,  papa." 

"  I  will  see,  my  child." 

"  I  thought  of  Dr.  Landseer;  but  I  rather  it  would 
be  you,  papa.  Just  what  you  would  give  to  me,  you 
know." 

**  If  it  will  make  papa's  little  girl  happier,  he  will 
do  it,"  and  kisses  rained  over  Ellen's  cheeks. 

A  thoughtful  expression  settled  on  Mr.  Delafield's 
face,  and  Ellen  ran  away  to  tell  Di. 

When  Grant  Clayton  could  walk  about  his  room, 
Ellen  made  known  her  plan,  and  this  time  the  tears 
were  not  sad. 

"  I  thought  it  was  a  proof  that  God  was  angry 
with  us,"  said  Edna,  as  she  walked  with  Ellen  to  the 
carriage.  "A  mercy,  it  seems  now.  Dr.  Landseer 
says  Grant  could  never  have  held  out  to  work  and 
study  as  he  was  doing." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

REST    AND    TOIL. 

JUNE  came,  with   her  wealth   of  roses  and  days 
golden  with  sunshine.    The  dim,  dusty  town  was 
deserted.     Busy  days  there  had  been  at  Mr.  Dela- 
field's.     Some  had  gone  to  the  sea-side,  and  others  to 
the  mountains.  At  first  it  was  proposed  that  all  should 
go  to  the  country,  but  Kate  and  Agnes  overruled. 

**  What  is  the  use  of  all  our  new  dresses,  if  we  are 
to  mope  in  the  country?"  asked  Kate.  *' For  my 
part,  I  have  no  taste  for  it.  All  of  our  set  are  going 
to  the  shore,  and  of  course  we  are  expected  to  join 
them." 

"  It  will,  no  doubt,  be  the  best  thing  for  Ellen,  and 
Di  will  enjoy  it,"  added  Agnes  ;  and,  very  amiably, 
the  two  girls  suggested  the  articles  of  dress  neces- 
sary for  a  visit  to  the  country.  "  Calicoes  and 
ginghams,  and  one  lawn  for  Sundays." 

Kate  drew  still  closer  to  her  mother.  "  The 
dresses  Agnes  and  I  wore  when  we  were  in  Tipton 
will  be  just  the  thing.  A  little  altering,  and  mine 
will  fit  Di  splendidly.  In  this  case,  you  can  afford 
us  those  lovely  crapes  and  grenadines  we  saw  yes- 
terday." 

"  I  will  see,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

63 


64  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

"  I  shall  want  my  white  dresses,  and  so  will  Di," 
said  Ellen. 

"  White  dresses  !  They  would  n't  keep  clean  any 
time;  and  then  who's  to  do  them  up?"  exclaimed 
Agnes. 

Ellen  looked  as  though  she  expected  they  could 
wash  quite  as  well  in  the  country  as  in  the  city.  But 
Di  was  not  listening.  She  was  thinking  of  what  Dr. 
Landseer  had  told  her  of  the  old  place — the  spot  where 
he  had  passed  his  boyhood,  and  where  she  expected 
to  enjoy  so  much  climbing  the  mountains,  and  fol- 
lowing the  brook  to  its  source.  She  did  not  care 
about  her  dress  ;  and,  still,  Daisy  could  not  deny  that 
she  liked  to  be  dressed  becomingly,  choosing  colors 
that  harmonized  with  her  complexion,  style,  and  gen- 
eral appearance.  And  yet,  so  seldom  was  her  taste 
consulted,  that  it  came  to  be  understood  it  made  little 
or  no  difference  with  Di.  Anything  laid  aside  by 
Kate  and  Agnes  was  sure  to  be  acceptable. 

It  was  all  arranged.  Jay  and  Cyrus  were  to  accom- 
pany Mrs.  Delafield  and  her  eldest  daughters  to  the 
shore.  Di  and  Ellen  to  the  mountains.  Mr.  Dela- 
field could  not  take  a  rest  this  summer,  he  said.  Busi- 
ness rendered  it  needful  for  him  to  stay  in  the  city. 

"  In  that  case,  let  us  stay  with  you,  papa ;  "  and 
Ellen  crept  up  to  her  father's  knee. 

"That  would  be  selfish;  and,  still,  papa  will  miss 
his  little  girl." 

**  I  would  rather  stay,  papa,  and  so  would  Di." 

"  No,  no.  I  expect  great  things  from  country  air  and 
country  living.  I  want  these  pale  cheeks  to  be  ruddy 
with  health  when  you  return." 


D  O  WNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  65 

Immersed  in  society  as  were  his  wife  and  daugh- 
ters, Mr.  Delafield's  heart  turned  to  Ellen  with 
peculiar  fondness.  When  he  came  from  his  office, 
she  was  always  ready  to  meet  him ;  and  the  strong 
man  felt  weak  as  a  child  at  the  thought  of  her 
leaving. 

"This  little  girl  will  come  back  as  bright  as  a  but- 
terfly and  as  gay  as  a  lark,"  exclaimed  Dr.  Landseer, 
as  Ellen  danced  out  to  meet  him. 

"  Have  they  all  gone  ?  " 

"  Left  yesterday." 

**  Only  yesterday  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  arching 
his  eyebrows  in  a  peculiar  manner.  "  I  thought  they 
had  been  gone  a  week  at  least,  and  you  had  ample 
time  to  think  of  yourselves." 

*'  Such  a  sight  of  packing !  They  could  not  go  as 
early  as  they  expected,"  returned  Ellen. 

"  How  long  before  yoii  are  ready?  " 

*'  Di  thinks  we  ought  to  stay  with  papa." 

**  Papa  is  an  old  bear,  or  he  would  go  with  us," 
said  the  doctor. 

"  Indeed,  Dr.  Landseer,  papa  is  not  a  bear.  He 
has  to  work  hard  to  give  us  all  we  want." 

"  Here  he  comes  to  answer  for  himself;  "  and  the 
doctor  and  Ellen  met  Mr.  Delafield  at  the  door. 

"  Ellen  says  you  are  not  a  bear." 

*'Do  I  look  like  one?" 

**  Not  quite  as  formidable,  perhaps." 

"  I  see  you  are  for  the  country." 

"  Will  you  join  us  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  not,  doctor.  To  tell  you  the  truth, 
6*  E 


66  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

the  wheels  are  getting  sadly  out  of  order;  and  if  I 
leave,  I  am  afraid  they  will  stop  altogether." 

"  PushinG:  ahead  without  regard  to  health  or 
strength.  I  say,  Delafield,  if  anybody  needs  recrea- 
tion, you  do.  Unless  you  take  care,  you  will  break 
down  before  you  know  it." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  go  down  for  a  few  days  before  they 
return.  It  would  do  little  good  to  go  now.  There 
must  be  somebody  to  keep  up  supplies.  God  knows 
how  long  it  will  last." 

Before  they  parted,  it  was  settled  Di  and  Ellen 
were  to  go  out  with  Dr.  Landseer  and  return  with 
Mr.  Delafield. 

Mrs.  Clayton,  Grant,  and  Edna  had  been  the  last 
to  say  good-by ;  and  bearing  a  letter  from  Mr.  Par- 
ton  to  his  college-chum,  Mr.  Hawley,  the  minister  at 
Tipton,  they  set  out.  The  cars  did  not  take  them 
nearer  than  twenty  miles  from  Tipton.  There  a  stage 
was  in  waiting,  "  large  enough  for  passengers  and 
baggage,  too,"  said  the  driver. 

**  People  that  go  to  the  country  do  not  require  the 
finery  that  is  requisite  at  the  sea-shore,"  the  doctor 
whispered  to  Di. 

With  a  good  deal  of  wonderment  in  her  great  blue 
eyes,  Ellen  allowed  herself  to  be  lifted  to  the  back 
seat,  while  Di  sprang  up  over  the  wheel  as  though 
she  had  been  accustomed  to  it  all  her  life.  The 
driver  was  a  good-natured  man,  ready  to  answer  any 
amount  of  questions,  with  a  dry  humor  continually 
flashing  up,  to  the  infinite  amusement  of  his  passen- 
gers. 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  67 

The  sun  was  past  the  meridian,  and  the  slant  rays 
lay  like  gold  bars  on  the  fence-rails  and  across  the 
brown  road.  Far  away  the  mountains  lifted  their 
broad  shoulders  to  the  skies,  and  in  the  distance  a 
river  appeared,  like  a  silver  ribbon  fringed  with  em- 
eralds. Clusters  of  oak  and  maple  dotted  the  way- 
side, and  the  birds  held  high  mass  on  every  tree. 
Through  the  openings,  fields  of  corn  were  to  be 
seen,  and  the  green  meadows  were  golden  with  but- 
tercups. 

**  You  have  grown  very  still  back  there,"  and 
Nathan  threw  a  glance  behind  him.  *'  Seen  all  there 
is,  have  you  ?  " 

"  Not  that,"  returned  Di ;  *'  but  it  is  so  strangely 
grand  and  beautiful,  words  are  out  of  place." 

"  It  does  n't  seem  strange  to  one  born  here.  About 
as  much  beauty  as  there  is  in  the  sunrise ;  one  would  n't 
turn  to  look  at  it  after  a  few  times." 

"The  sunrise  !  I  think  it's  glorious  1  I  intend  to 
be  up  every  morning  in  time  for  this." 

"  Get  to  be  an  old  story  in  a  month.  I  've  heard 
ever  so  many  say  so.     It  did  n't  hold  out." 

"  There  's  an  old  mill,"  and  Nathan  pointed  with 
his  whip.  *'I've  been  there  many  a  time  when  a 
little  shaver.  Not  now  what  it  was  then.  Everything 
changes,  though." 

**  This  valley  has  not  changed  much  since  you  knew 
it,  h^s  it  ?  "  asked  Dr.  Landseer. 

"  A  mighty  sight  it  has,  though.  None  of  these 
handsome  houses  then,  and  a  good  deal  of  timber  in 
places.       And    the    farms,    in    the    room    of    being 


68  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

hemmed  in  with  neat  fences  and  smooth  walls,  were 
only  staked  out.  Everything  had  to  be  done  by 
hand.     Now,  machinery  does  pretty  nigh  all." 

"A  labor-saving  process,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  Takinsf  the  bread  from  the  mouths  of  the  chil- 
dren."    • 

"  How  so  ?  " 

'*  One  man  can  now  do  the  work  of  half  a  dozen, 
driving  the  surplus  of  labor  to  manufacturing  towns, 
or  to  anything  that  offers  itself,  when,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  farming  was  the  choice  of  these  men,  and 
about  the  only  thing  they  could  do  with  profit  to 
themselves,  or  to  anybody  else." 

"  Would  you  like  the  old  way  again  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  a  happier  way  of  living." 

"  It  does  not  affect  you  personally,  I  see." 

"I've  been  tossed  up  a  good  bit,  Dr.  Landseer; 
but  somehow  I  always  come  down,  like  a  cat,  on  my 
feet.  There  are  some  things  I  like  better  than  others, 
though." 

**  Have  you  always  lived  in  these  parts  ?  " 

"  Off  and  on,  here  's  been  my  home,"  and  Nathan 
went  on  to  enlighten  the  doctor  with  a  few  of  his 
adventures. 

"  When  we  get  on  that  hill,  we  shall  come  upon 
the  village, — a  pretty  show  it  makes  from  the  ridge," 
said  Nathan,  as  he  reached  the  climax  of  his  story. 

The  glow  of  sunset  bathed  the  valley  and  tinged 
the  tops  of  the  mountains.  Nathan  drew  up  his 
horses. 

"  Glorious !  Who  ever  saw  a  more  charming 
prospect!  "  and  Dr.  Landseer  sprang  to  the  ground. 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  69 

*'  You  can  see  just  as  well  here,"  said  Nathan,  see- 
ing that  Di  was  about  to  follow.  "  We  shall  wind 
down  the  hill  into  the  village.  'Tis  pretty;  but  I 
can't  see  it  just  as  you  do  :  'tis  nothing  new  to  me. 
And,  still,  it  kinder  looks  different  every  time." 

"  God  makes  everything  beautiful,"  said  Ellen, 
as  she  stood  on  the  seat,  holding  on  to  Nathan's 
arm. 

**  I  don't  know  much  about  God.  It's  natral,  anc^  I 
like  it.  This  is  just  about  the  prettiest  time  in  the 
year." 

"Don't  you  know  God  made  everything?"  and 
Ellen's  blue  eyes  looked  up  to  the  bronzed  face. 

"  It 's  nater,  child.  This  ere  beauty  won't  last ;  'tis 
changing  all  the  time.  Trees  put  out  in  the  spring, 
then  they  fade  and  die,  and  begin  again.  It's  their 
nater.     Everything  goes  by  rule." 

"  But  God  made  the  rule,  Nathan." 

"Can't  say;  some  folks  think  so." 

"  But,  Nathan,  God  made  us,  and  we  are  God's," 
and  a  puzzled  expression  clouded  Ellen's  face.  She 
had  never  seen  one  who  doubted  God's  power;  and 
her  anxiety  increased  with  each  answer  from  Nathan. 

"  If  God  made  us,  and  we  are  his,  I  should  think 
he  would  take  care  of  us." 

"So  he  does,  Nathan.     He  keeps  us  all  the  time." 

"  A  pretty  deal  of  care  we  'd  get,  if  we  did  n't  bow 
down  to  hard  work  all  the  time.  I  've  tried  both 
ways." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  've  tried  to  let  God  take 
care  of  you  ?  " 


•JO  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

"  Not  that,  exactly  ;  but  I  've  tried  a  kind  of  do- 
nothing  way  of  life.     It  did  n't  come  to  much." 

"  Bluebells,  such  as  you  never  saw  before  !  "  ex- 
claimed Dr.  Landseer,  coming  up  the  path  with  his 
hands  full  of  flowers.  "  I  declare  it  makes  me  young 
again  :  the  very  spring  where  I  used  to  drink  when 
a  boy,  and  the  same  old  mullein  stalk,  for  any  differ- 
ence that  I  can  see.  I  tried  to  make  a  cup,  but  my 
hands  are  too  clumsy,  and  my  eyes  are  full  of  mist. 
We  '11  try  it  again  some  day,"  and  the  doctor  shook 
his  pocket-handkerchief,  and  once  more  resumed  his 
seat. 

"See  that  house  over  there  with  a  little  cupola? 
It  looks  like  a  blaze  of  light,"  and  Nathan  pointed 
with  his  whip. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Di. 

"  Mr.  Hawley  lives  there.  It 's  little  the  smartest 
place  in  the  village.  I  always  feel  kind  of  sad  when 
I  pass  it,  though." 

"  Why  sad,  Nathan  ?  " 

"  It  was  built  by  an  Englishman  nigh  about  twenty 
year  ago.  He  come  over  and  married  a  sister  of  Mr. 
Hawley.  A  pretty  girl  as  one  need  see  in  a  lifetime. 
I  never  knew  quite  what ;  but  't  was  said  he  was  rich  ; 
belonged  to  one  of  the  great  families;  could  n't  marry 
beneath  him.  It  was  about  the  time  I  went  to  Cali 
forny ;  can't  tell  it  straight.  His  family  considered 
the  marriage  illegal,  and  the  child  unable  to  hold  the 
property.  Mr.  Hawley  took  it  up ;  the  Englishman 
went  home,  and  somehow  the  child  was  spirited  away, 
and  the  mother  has  been  no  account  ever  since," 


D  OWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  7I 

"  What  do  you  mean  :  did  she  die,  Nathan  ?  " 

"  She  Hves  ;  but  her  reason  is  gone.  Mr.  Hawley 
takes  care  of  her." 

**  Did  you  know  anything  of  this,  Dr.  Landseer  ?  " 
and  Di's  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

"  It  is  almost  twice  twenty  years  since  I  lived  here, 
child,  and  everything  has  changed  since  that.  For 
minister  then  we  had  an  old  man  by  the  name  of 
Denon.  I  remember  he  always  prayed  with  his  eyes 
open ;  old  square  pews  with  seats  hung  with  hinges, 
which  we  always  raised  in  prayer-time.  You  remem- 
ber them,  Nathan  ?  " 

"  Leetle  before  my  time,  doctor.  I  can  just  re- 
member I  used  to  ride  behind  mother  to  the  meet- 
ing-house, while  she  carried  the  baby  in  her  lap : 
we  always  had  a  baby  at  our  house.  I  see  the  sun 
is  most  down  ;  guess  we  'd  better  be  jogging." 

The  golden  tints  had  vanished  as  Nathan  reined 
up  at  Mrs.  White's  door. 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you,  doctor,"  said  the 
good  woman,  as  she  came  out  to  welcome  them. 
"And  these  are  the  little  girls  you  promised  me? 
Are  you  tired  with  the  journey?  "  she  asked,  giving 
a  hand  to  Di  and  Ellen. 

**  Not  much,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  Mrs. 
White,"  responded  Di.  "  Ellen  is  not  as  strong,  and 
she  has  expended  a  good  deal  of  enthusiasm." 

"  Just  come  right  up  to  your  room,  and  bathe  your 
face  and  hands  :  you'll  feel  better.  Here,  Seth,  take 
this  little  girl  up-stairs." 

Seth  did  not  wait  to  ask  permission,  but,  raising 


72  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

Ellen  in  his  strong  arms,  sprang  up  the  steps  as 
easily  as  if  he  carried  a  rose-leaf. 

"  There,  child,  lay  right  back  in  this  little  rocking- 
chair;  you  are  just  tired  out.  We  shall  have  you  all 
straight  in  a  few  days.     Nobody  is  ever  sick  here." 

"  It  is  not  a  bit  as  I  thought  it  would  be,"  said 
Ellen,  as  Mrs.  White  left  the  room.  '*  Kate  said  it 
was  horrid  in  the  country.  Do  you  know,  Di,  I 
think  it's  better  than  to  be  in  town  ;  and  this  grand 
old  house.  Why,  she  said  the  rooms  were  nothing 
but  pigeon  holes." 

"  Kate  was  thinking  of  society :  there  are  fewer 
people  to  be  met  with  in  the  country ;  and  their 
habits  and  customs  are  not  the  same  as  in  the 
city." 

"  I  am  glad  they  are  not.  I  like  Nathan  ever  so 
much,  don't  you?     And  Mrs.  White  is  real  good." 

"  Ready  for  a  chicken's  wing  ?  "  Dr.  Landseer  called 
out  from  the  landing.  "Think  you  will  like  it?  "  as 
the  girls  went  out  to  meet  him. 

*'  I  am  sure  we  shall,  Dr.  Landseer." 

"  Right  glad  of  that.  Mrs.  White  knows  how  to 
make  people  comfortable." 

The  supper-room  was  large  and  airy;  cool  white 
matting  covered  the  floor;  the  windows  were  draped 
with  muslin  curtains,  not  disturbing  the  entrance  of 
pure  air  rich  with  the  perfume  of  flowers.  Pictures 
covered  the  walls,  and  the  table  was  loaded  with 
delicacies. 

**If  the  doctor  will  take  this  seat,  with  Miss 
Delafield  and  Ellen  on  each  side,"  said  Mrs.  White. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  73 

Seth  sat  opposite  his  mother,  and  a  ruddy-cheeked 
girl  of  twelve  occupied  the  other  side  of  the  table, 

**  Di,  if  you  please,  Mrs.  White,  or  Daisy,  as  Dr. 
Landseer  calls  me,"  as  a  cup  of  tea  was  passed  to 
"  Miss  Delafield." 

Mrs.  White  had  hardly  looked  at  her  guests;  now 
she  had  a  chance  to  study  their  faces,  and  her  good, 
motherly  heart  was  drawn  toward  them  with  a  de- 
gree of  feeling  seldom  given  to  those  of  whom  she 
knew  so  little.  The  more  she  looked  at  Daisy's  face 
the  more  was  she  impressed  with  the  idea  that  she 
had  seen  it  before.  This  could  not  be,  however,  for 
she  had  never  been  to  the  city.  Of  course  it  was 
only  a  fancy,  one  of  those  faces  that  you  meet  with 
at  times,  a  face  that  brings  up  haunting  memories,  as 
though  each  feature  was  the  embodiment  of  some- 
thing or  somebody  with  whom  you  have  been 
familiar  all  your  life,  and  still  not  sufficiently  tangi- 
ble to  recall  the  exact  place  and  time. 

After  tea  the  chairs  were  removed  to  the  porch, 
and  as  the  shadows  veiled  the  earth,  the  moon  and 
stars  appeared.  Ellen  nestled  to  the  doctor's  side, 
and  Daisy  grew  silent,  so  still,  it  seemed  the  presence 
of  the  Infinite  overshadowed  them,  the  sound  of  his 
voice  walking  in  the  garden. 

"God  is  nearer  to  us  in  the  country,"  Ellen  whis- 
pered to  Dr.  Landseer. 

"  Speaking   with    him   face  to   face,"  replied   the 
doctor.     This  was  the  first  night  at  Tipton. 
7 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BACK    THROUGH    THE   YEARS. 

DR.  LANDSEER  had  gone  out  for  two  weeks 
only ;    his  patients  could   not   spare  him  any 
longer,  and  there  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost. 

"  The  house  has  been  remodelled  till  there  is  not 
a  vestige  left,"  he  said  to  Mrs.  White,  the  morning 
after  his  arrival.  "  I  remember  the  large  chimney 
behind  which  I  used  to  sleep;  on  the  projecting 
corners  of  which  we  dried  nuts,  and  cracked  them 
as  we  did  our  jokes.  How  rich  I  felt  in  the  posses- 
sion of  a  knife ;  slipping  it  into  my  pocket,  and 
buttoning  my  coat  over  it,  while  I  walked  up  artd 
down  the  brook  to  hunt  a  willow  suited  for  a  whistle  ; 
and  then  it  was  all  too  large  for  my  infantile  strength, 
and  Jerry  had  to  try  it,  cutting  it  round,  and  slipping 
off  the  juicy  bark  from  the  white  wood.  With  a  step 
prouder  than  I  have  taken  since,  I  showed  it  to  my 
mother,  with  the  knife  that  Jerry  gave  me ;  the  dear 
glad  eyes  looking  into  mine  with  a  wealth  of  love. 
Drawing  me  to  her  bosom,  she  pressed  her  lips  to 
mine,  and  wept.  I  marvelled  to  see  the  tears,  while 
her  white  lips  trembled.  In  a  few  days  she  was  ill ; 
and  before  I  had  learned  to  know  what  sickness 
meant,  my  mother  fell  asleep,  never  to  wake  again. 

74 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  75 

With  childlike  awe  and  wonder,  I  crept  into  the  cold 
room,  raised  the  white  sheet,  and  cried  myself  to 
sleep.  Long  after  nightfall  they  found  me  there ; 
and  Jerry  carried  me  in  his  arms  up  to  my  bed  be- 
hind the  chimney.  Since  then  I  have  known  sor- 
row ;  but  none  so  keen,  a  dull  throbbing  pain,  not 
sharp  and  fierce  as  I  knew  it  then." 

Through  all  that  day  the  little  reminiscences  of 
early  life  were  cropping  out.  The  trees  were  the 
only  things  that  looked  familiar,  and  these  had 
grown  large,  their  trunks  moss-covered.  Then  the 
barn  was  visited,  and  the  doctor  explained  to  Daisy 
and  Ellen  the  way  he  used  to  climb  to  the  great 
beams,  and  jump  upon  the  hay  below.  **  I  v/ould 
hardly  risk  it  now,"  and  he  looked  up  to  the  dizzy 
height.  Over  the  large  doors  pigeons  cooed,  and 
made  circuits,  teaching  their  young  to  fly.  Down 
the  narrow  path,  overgrown  with  long  dank  grass, 
to  the  small  spring  at  the  foot  of  the  cherry-tree, 
the  old  bucket  rimmed  with  moss ;  but  the  happy 
voices,  as  they  dipped  their  tin-pails  in  the  sparkling 
fountain,  were  no  longer  heard.  Then  across  the 
meadow  to  the  island,  the  white  line  of  a  brook 
girdling  it  in.  Changed  as  it  was,  there  were  haunt- 
ing memories,  the  line  of  cherry-trees  recalling  the 
time  when  he  had  begged  his  mother  to  let  him  look 
at  the  mowers  in  the  field,  rolling  on  the  new-made 
hay,  and  eating  cherries  to  his  fill.  The  sun  set, 
Jerry  broke  a  limb  weighed  down  with  fruit,  and, 
climbing  to  the  top  of  the  loaded    cart,  sang  out  to 


^6  DO  IV  N  IV  A  R  D   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

Spot  and  Brindle,  as  they  toiled  slowly  along  the 
narrow  track. 

The  letter  from  Mr.  Parton  to  Mr.  Hawley  won 
for  the  small  party  immediate  attention.  Morning, 
noon,  and  night  he  was  at  their  service;  and  a  better 
guide  could  not  have  been  found,  neither  a  more 
genial  companion. 

"  I  had  no  adequate  idea  of  what  the  country 
offers,"  said  Daisy,  as  Mr.  Hawley  came  up  with  a 
bouquet  of  tiny  white  bells.  "  The  exquisite  beauty 
of  the  wild  flowers  exceeds  all  that  I  have  known." 

"Wild  flowers  are  planted  by  His  hand  and 
nourished  by  His  care ;  there  is  a  delicacy  and  a 
beauty  that  we  never  see  in  hot-house  plants,"  Mr. 
Hawley  replied. 

"  Art  can  fashion  nothing  like  these,"  continued 
Daisy,  examining  more  closely  the  flowers.  **  What 
exquisite  pencilling!" 

"  Modest  and  unassuming,  they  come  freighted 
with  rich  lessons  to  those  who  have  the  willingness 
to  hear,"  answered  the  pastor. 

"  It  seems  a  pity  that  so  much  beauty  is  never  to 
be  seen,"  said  Ellen,  as  she  opened  the  long  grass 
and  gazed  on  the'wildlings. 

"  Sitting  in  the  place  He  gave.  Not  passive,  for 
their  fragrance  finds  them  out,"  said  Dr.  Landseer, 
as  he  joined  the  group, 

"  What  charming  lessons  of  content  they  teach. 
Withholding  neither  beauty  nor  perfume  because  un- 
seen," rejoined  Mr.  Hawley. 

Daisy  caught  the  words.  It  was  the  very  lesson 
she  had  tried  to  learn. 


D  O  WN  WA  R  D   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D.  7/ 

**  It  makes  little  difference  where  we  are,  or  what 
we  have  to  contend  with,"  continued  Mr.  Hawley,  as 
though  he  divined  Daisy's  perplexity.  '*  All  that  is 
expected  of  us  is  to  do  our  best,  and,  doing  this,  be 
content.  When  dark  to  us,  we  know  it's  plain  to 
Him.     No  need  of  undue  care  or  restlessness." 

"  In  the  place  He  gave,"  went  ringing  through  her 
ears,  as  she  wandered  back  to  the  porch.  So  long 
Daisy  had  allowed  herself  to  question,  Why  and 
wherefore  ?  She  had  not  deemed  it  wrong.  Thought- 
less, perhaps,  and  often,  as  she  looked  upon  the 
small  dress,  had  she  been  restless  and  questioning. 
'<  God  never  makes  mistakes,"  Mr.  Hawley  said. 
"  His  plans  have  an  end  and  aim,  and  good  is  the 
result." 

It  is  wonderful,  the  effect  of  a  few  words,  — the 
subtle  power  to  strengthen,  calm,  and  lift  us  up,  or 
drag  us  down  with  their  withering,  scathing  sharp- 
ness. There  were  walks  and  rides,  and  once  there 
had  been  a  picnic,  to  which  the  villagers  were  in- 
vited;  and  Daisy  and  Ellen  were  as  much  disap- 
pointed in  the  elegant  refinement  of  these  villagers 
as  they  had  been  in  the  rare  views  and  visions  of 
beauty  that  flashed  upon  them  from  every  quarter. 

Walking  on  the  river-sands.  Dr.  Landseer  slipped 
the  pebbles  through  his  fingers,  or  sent  them  skip- 
ping over  the  waves,  to  the  delight  of  Ellen  ;  and 
Mr.  Hawley  brought  pine-cones,  full  of  lingering 
perfume.  Overhead,  the  bird  singers  trilled  their 
songs,  and  the  squirrels  sat  at  their  doors  chattering 
a  welcome  to  each  one  as  he  passed. 
7* 


78  DOIVNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

Try  as  she  would,  there  was  a  thread  of  sadness 
in  Di's  heart.  Wandering  away,  she  seated  herself 
on  a  fallen. tree.  Back  through  the  years.  How  dis- 
tinctly they  swept  before  her.  The  hours  of  loneli- 
ness and  sharp,  stinging  pain  ;  the  struggles,  trials, 
aims,  and  hopes  ;  the  reaching  up  to  a  higher  life. 
Then  the  gloom,  the  despondency,  striving  to  at- 
tain, and  not  attaining;  and  only  the  more  conscious 
of  the  deceitfulness  of  her  own  heart,  the  want  of 
firm  endeavor  in  the  attempt  to  do. 

"Moralizing,  Daisy?"  and  Mr.  Hawley  crossed 
the  river  on  a  trembling  plank. 

"  Only  thinking,  Mr.  Hawley,  how  small  it  all 
seems." 

"  All  the  pleasure,  or  the  trouble  ?  " 

"  Both." 

"  I  did  not  suppose  that  you  had  made  deep  ac- 
quaintance with  the  latter." 

"  My  share,"  and  a  strange,  sad  smile  lit  up  Di's 
face. 

"  We  are  privileged  to  live  in  the  sunshine.  Clouds 
may  obscure  it  for  a  moment,  but  with  the  next 
breath  they  are  gone.  So  with  our  spiritual  and  in- 
ner life.     Only  keep  in  the  sunshine  of  His  love." 

"  Can  we  always  do  this  ?  "  and  Daisy  glanced  up 
with  an  expression  that  revealed  the  hungering  of 
her  own  heart. 

"  To  live  in  the  sunshine  of  His  love  is  only  to 
live  constantly  in  His  presence.  This  is  the  privilege 
granted  to  us.  We  cannot  be  very  miserable  when 
permitted  to  live  with  those  we  love." 


/?  O  WN'  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  79 

"But  there  are  times  when  He  seems  so  far  away." 
,  "  That  is  because  we  stray  away  from  Him,  seek- 
ing our  own  pleasure,  turning  our  backs^  upon  the 
tender,  loving  face,  not  caring  to  hear  the  sweetly 
persuasive  accents  *  Come  unto  me.'  Lonely  and 
sad  as  we  may  be,  all  we  have  to  do  is  to  go  to  Him  ; 
and  not  only  is  He  a  friend  willing  to  receive  us,  but 
He  runs  to  meet  us,  to  embrace,  and  fold  us  to  His 
heart,  blotting  out  our  transgressions  for  His  own 
sake.  When  in  trouble  or  in  doubt,  cast  down  and 
friendless  it  may  be,  we  have  only  to  grasp  His 
hand  tightly." 

"  I  knew  this,  Mr.  Hawley ;  but  I  do  not  always 
realize  it.  I  am  afraid  that  I  do  not  reach  out  after 
this  hand." 

*'  Spiritual  growth,  as  the  physical,  is  gradual. 
These  towering  oaks  were  once  tender  saplings;  sun- 
shine has  warmed  them  into  life,  and  storms  and 
tempests  have  strengthened  them.  They  never 
would  have  stood  so  firmly,  but  for  the  winds  that 
for  the  time  seemed  about  to  destroy  them.  We 
cannot  come  to  our  full  stature  without  conflict,  —  self 
has  to  be  subdued,  unyielding  will  brought  into  sub- 
jection; and  this  cannot  be  effected  without  a  sharp 
and  bitter  struggle." 

"  But  when  we  feel  that  the  contest  has  been 
waged,  to  find  so  much  strife  and  commotion,  and 
just  at  a  time,  perhaps,  when  in  no  mood  to  battle 
with  it,"  said  Daisy. 

"  So  long  as  we  are  in  the  flesh,  so  long  the  war- 
fare will  continue.     '  Give  us  this  day,'  is  our  prayer." 


8o  DO  WN  WA  R  D   A  XD    UP  WA  R  D. 

"This  in  itself  is  discouraging;  if  we  could  only 
feel  that  we  accomplished  something,"  and  there  was 
a  weary  look  on  Di's  face. 

"Life  is  compared  to  a  journey,"  continued  Mr. 
Hawley ;  "  we  do  not  take  it  all  at  once.  Each  day 
we  take  advance  steps ;  night  finds  us  farther  on  our 
way  than  when  we  started  in  the  morning,  still  the 
journey  is  not  accomplished ;  refreshed  by  needful 
rest,  we  are  to  set  out  again." 

"  Dinner  is  nearly  ready,  and  your  reverence  will 
be  called  for,"  said  Dr.  Landseer,  as  he  flung  himself 
at  his  length  on  the  grass. 

"  A  day  like  this  lifts  one  up  to  the  full  height  of 
humanity.  I  feel  that  I  shall  be  a  better  man,  my 
whole  after-life  gladdened  by  this  little  trip,"  and 
the  doctor  looked  up  at  the  white  cloud-ships  sailing 
above  him. 

"  Doctors,  of  all  people,  need  rest  occasionally," 
replied  Mr.  Hawley.  "  There  is  a  constant  strain 
upon  their  vital  energies.  The  cask  that  is  always 
giving  out  will  sometime  run  dry." 

"  Rest  is  as  much  a  Christian  grace  as  action ; 
and  a  grace  that  is  practically  overlooked  by  most 
of  us.  '  Onward '  is  the  motto,  and  away  we  go 
with  railroad  speed,  rushing  through  life  without  a 
pause  to  drink  in  the  beauty  of  the  way.  It  is  this 
that  breaks  down  American  life  so  early,  this  con- 
tinual onward  move  without  regard  to  age  or  sex ; 
afraid,  if  they  stop,  that  their  neighbor  will  shoot 
ahead,  and  only  brought  up  at  last  by  the  hard  bit 
of  necessity,"  continued  Dr.  Landseer. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  8l 

"  Dinner  is  waiting,"  and  this  time  the  order  was 
imperative.  A  novel  dinner,  surely,  —  white  cloths 
spread  on  the  grass,  and  surrounded  by  groups  care- 
less, cosy,  chatting  and  laughing  with  all  the  abandon 
of  out-door  life.  Meals  taken  in  this  way  are  sure 
to  be  seasoned  with  good  appetites,  and  the  rich 
wine  of  enjoyment  circulated  freely. 

"This  has  been  a  good  day,"  said  Ellen,  as  she 
walked  home  with  her  hand  in  Dr.  Landseer's. 

"  And  you  have  enjoyed  it  ?  " 

"  If  papa  could  only  have  been  here." 

"  I  must  go  back  to-morrow.  Suppose  you  write 
and  tell  him  your  wish  ;  and  I  will  try  and  send  him 
out  earlier  than  he  thought  it  possible  for  him  to 
leave." 

"  Do  you  think  they  are  happier  at  the  sea-side  ? 
Mamma  writes  that  she  gets  so  tired  bathing, 
dressing,  and  visiting.  I  wonder  if  they  are  hap- 
pier?" asked  Ellen. 

*'  Happiness  is  an  ambiguous  word.  Of  one  thing 
we  can  be  assured,  we  have  had  a  happy  time,"  and 
the  doctor  pointed  to  the  crimson  clouds,  and  the 
bars  of  gold  bridging  the  meadow. 

"A  day  that  I  shall  not  forget.  I  will  write  to 
papa;  and  you  must  tell  him,  Dr.  Landseer." 

Proud  as  a  man  may  be  of  his  physical  strength 
and  of  his  intellectual  capacity,  when  his  heart  is 
stirred,  he  is  as  weak  as  a  child.  Dr.  Landseer  had 
been  living  in  the  past  for  the  last  two  weeks.  It 
was  over  now;  the  work-day  life  was  before  him. 

F 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AN    UNEXPECTED    MEETING. 

THERE  was  hardly  a  walk  in  and  about  Tipton 
which  Daisy  had  not  discovered ;  and  since 
Dr.  Landseer  left,  Seth  and  Lydia  had  been  more 
frequently  with  her.  In  this  way  there  were  many 
items  of  village  history  creeping  out,  and  by  degrees 
Daisy  became  more  or  less  acquainted  with  every 
family.  Bronzed  as  Seth  was,  and  dressed  in  home- 
spun, there  was  nothing  rude  about  him ;  and  his 
conversation  showed  culture  that  surprised  Daisy, 
the  more  frequently  she  listened  to  him.  Willing 
as  he  was  to  give  all  information  with  regard  to 
country  life,  he  had  countless  questions  to  ask  of  the 
city,  contrasting  and  drawing  conclusions  full  of  wit 
and  good-humor. 

"You  have  not  been  to  the  '  Devil's  Den,'"  said 
Lydia,  one  morning,  as  Daisy  was  planning  an  ex- 
tensive excursion  for  the  day. 

"I  had  no  idea  his  majesty  had  a  den  in  this  re- 
gion." 

**  It 's  a  lovely  place ;  though  I  can  't  imagine  why 
they  gave  it  such  a  wicked  name,"  continued  Lydia. 

"  Years  ago  it  was  likely  wilder  than  it  is  now  ;  and 
it  may  have  been  used  as  a  place  of  ambush  for 
wrong-doers.     At  any  rate,  it  has  borne  that  name 

8: 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  83 

ever  since  I  knew  anything  about  it,"  said  Mrs 
White. 

"  I  hardly  think  I  can  go  with  you  this  morning," 
Seth  repHed.  "  I  have  to  go  to  mill,  and  the  mare 
wants  a  shoe.     Will  you  be  afraid  to  go  alone  ?  " 

"  There  's  nothing  to  fear,  is  there  ?  " 

"  Nothing  but  the  name,"  and  Seth  laughed 
heartily. 

"  My  curiosity  is  excited.  I  must  see  this  formid- 
able place." 

"  Will  you  take  me  for  a  guide  ?  "  asked  Lydia. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  your  company." 

**  And  I  may  go  ?  "  asked  Ellen. 

"  Will  you  go  with  them,  or  take  a  ride  with  me," 
asked  Seth.  **  I  can  put  the  bags  under  the  seat, 
and  throw  a  blanket  over  them." 

"  I  am  not  afraid  of  meal-bags.  Am  I  free  to  de- 
cide, Di  ?  " 

"  That  means,  are  you  free  to  give  Seth  the  prefer- 
ence ?  "  and  there  was  a  quizzical  look  on  Di's  face. 

"  I  would  rather  go  to  ride,  Di." 

"  There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  not." 

"  But  you  won't  laugh  at  me  ?  " 

"  Laugh  at  you  !  I  hardly  know  but  I  would  like 
to  go  with  Seth  myself." 

Seth  was  putting  Dolly  into  the  light  wagon. 

"  Pity  we  had  n't  two  seats ;  then  all  could  go," 
added  Mrs.  White,  as  Seth  adjusted  the  buckles. 

Di  was  making  Ellen  ready. 

"A  responsible  little  charge,"  exclaimed  Seth,  as 
he  lifted  Ellen  into  the  seat. 


84  DO  IV  N  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D. 

"  Mind  you  tell  me  all  about  the  mill  and  the 
blacksmith's  shop,"  said  Daisy,  as  Dolly  trotted 
down  the  road. 

"  If  you  go,  you  had  better  start  right  off,"  said 
Mrs.  White.  "  The  sun  will  be  hot  in  an  hour  or  two. 
Wonder  if  Seth  took  an  umbrella  ?  That  little  thing 
will  just  wilt  down." 

"  I  don't  believe  he  did.  No,  here  it  is.  Shall  I 
run  after  him,  mother?"  asked  Lydia. 

*'  Dolly  gets  over  the  ground  too  fast  for  that,  child. 
Seth  is  a  boy  who  thinks  ;  and  if  it  gets  too  warm,  he 
will  borrow  one." 

It  was  a  perfect  day,  —  the  sun,  like  a  great  gold 
ball  suspended  in  an  arch  of  blue  ;  the  white,  fleecy 
clouds  looked  like  clustering  snowflakes,  cool,  spot- 
less, and  inviting. 

"  I  never  see  a  cloud  like  that,  but  I  want  to  hide 
myself  in  it.  I  like  clouds.  I  can't  help  it,"  said 
Lydia,  w^th  a  nervous  force,  giving  Daisy  to  under- 
stand that,  like  her  love,  she  could  n't  help  it. 

"  I  have  to  confess  to  a  love  for  clouds.  There  is 
a  purity  about  them  especially  inviting." 

"  Mother  says  that  it  is  a  waste  of  time  to  watch 
them  ;  but  they  float  easily ;  and  when  once  I  look, 
I  have  to  look  again,  and  before  I  am  done,  I  want 
to  be  up  there." 

"  Clouds  are  but  mist.  The  white,  fleecy  ones  are 
those  that  you  seem  to  admire,"  Daisy  continued. 

"They  are  not  just  like  the  black  ones,  gathering 
up  and  rolling  from  one  part  of  the  sky  to  another. 
I  can't  tell  which  I  like  best.      There  are  different 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  85 

thoughts  with  each.  When  I  look  at  the  white  ones, 
I  think  how  good  God  is  to  make  everything  so 
beautiful ;  and  the  black  ones  make  me  think  of  his 
power,  the  angry  sweep  of  his  eye ;  and  still  I  like 
to  hear  him  speak  in  the  thunder,"  and  Lydia 
stopped  suddenly,  and  a  deep  blush  overspread  her 
face. 

''Don't  be  afraid  to  talk  of  the  clouds  and  your 
love  for  them.  God  has  hung  them  for  curtains ;  not 
to  hide  his  face,  but  to  veil  his  glory." 

"  We  are  little  more  than  half-way  there.  Are  you 
tired  ?  "  and  Lydia  perched  herself  on  the  stile  that 
separated  one  field  from  another. 

**  Not  a  bit,"  replied  Daisy,  mounting  the  steps. 

"  It's  a  good  place  to  look  from.  I  don't  know 
which  is  the  best,"  continued  Lydia. 

*'  The  sky  or  the  earth  ?" 

"  There  's  always  something  to  see ;  just  as  though 
He  thought  we  'd  forget  if  left  to  ourselves." 

"  Do  you  love  flowers  ?  " 

"  I  never  have  enough  of  them  ;  especially  the 
little  wild  ones.  Mr.  Hawley  has  told  me  a  good 
deal  about  them.     That 's  one  thing  I  like  him  for." 

**  You  can  analyze  them  ?  " 

"  Tell  the  order,  class,  and  species  by  the  number 
of  stamens  and  pistils  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Mr.  Hawley  taught  Seth,  and  I  learned  what  I 
could.     Seth  always  goes  over  the  lesson  with  me." 

Hardly  knowing  it,  a  great  respect  grew  up  for 
the    little  maiden.      "  Here  is  one  doing  what  she 


86  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  W  A  R  D. 

can, —  loving  God,  and  reading  the  lesson  of  his  love 
through  his  works ;  while  I,  with  more  ample  privi- 
leges, am  often  murmuring,"  thought  Daisy. 

"  The  sun  is  getting  higher  ;  we  had  better  start," 
said  Lydia,  after  a  pause,  "  I  hope  there  won't  be 
anybody  at  the  *  Den  '  this  morning." 

'*  Is  it  much  frequented  ?  " 

"The  minister's  folks  like  to  go  there;  it's  just 
back  of  their  house,"  and  Lydia  jumped  down,  and 
commenced  her  walk. 

"  It 's  a  good  day  to  go  to  the  corners ;  Ellen  will 
enjoy  it.  I  wanted  to  go  ;  but  then  it's  nothing  new 
to  me.  I  know  every  inch  of  ground  ;  and  Seth  said 
he  'd  bring  me  what  I  want." 

*'  It  was  amiable  in  you  to  stay  at  home,  and  let 
Ellen  take  your  place,"  said  Daisy. 

"  I  don't  know ;  it  makes  me  happy  to  think  that 
she  will  enjoy  it." 

"  That 's  a  right  view  to  take  of  it ;  it 's  not  every 
one  that  does  it,  however." 

"  Mother  says  I  like  to  have  my  own  way ;  and  so 
I  do :  but  here  we  are,  almost  before  I  had  thought 
of  it,"  and  Lydia  stopped  suddenly. 

The  place  indicated  as  the  "  Devil's  Den  "  was  in  a 
long  ravine,  the  sides  well  wooded  with  a  thick  un- 
dergrowth, in  places  almost  impenetrable  with  cling- 
mg  vines  and  interlacing  branches.  The  sun  could 
hardly  penetrate  the  dense  foliage,  and  it  was  dark 
and  cold.    Daisy  shook  and  trembled. 

**  Are  you  afraid  ?  " 

*'  From  the  tropics  to  the  pole  is   enough  to  make 


DOWNWARD   AND   UPWARD.  8/ 

one  tremble,"  replied  Daisy.  *'  Let  us  see  if  we  can 
get  into  the  sunshine." 

"  It  will  be  difficult  to  find  it  here." 

Narrow  paths  wound  along  the  sides,  and  steps 
were  worn  in  the  hard  soil,  rendering  the  descent 
easy.  Calm  as  it  was  in  the  outer  world,  a  breeze 
rippled  through  the  tree -tops,  and  a  weird  song 
floated  upward. 

"You  always  hear  that.  Seth  calls  it  the  organ," 
and  Lydia  held  back  the  boughs  with  her  hands. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  ravine  there  was  a  cave, 
framed  in  with  rocks,  seamed  and  moss-covered.  A 
rivulet  trickled  down  the  shelving  side,  and  the  stones 
beneath  were  slippery,  tangled  vines  interlaced,  and 
the  branches  of  trees  overlapped  each  other. 

"A  fitting  name  do  you  call  it?"  and  Lydia's  eyes 
were  raised  to  Di's  face. 

"A  fairy  grotto,  a  home  for  the  wood-nymphs 
rather.  If  there  was  only  an  opening  for  the  sun- 
rays,  would  n't  it  be  lovely?" 

**  Seth  has  often  thought  of  that ;  he  says  it  would 
have  to  be  cut  away  a  good  deal,  and  the  effect  would 
not  be  as  good.  I  can  show  you  a  bit  of  sunshine, 
if  it's  not  too  early;  the  girls  used  to  come  here  with 
their  books  at  recess.  It  is  nice  and  cool;  but  so 
pretty,  we  could  n't  study;  and  the  birds  were  always 
singing  and  the  squirrels  chattering.  They  seemed 
to  like  it  just  as  we  did,  because  of  the  sunshine  " 

Leaving  Daisy  at  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  Lydia 
stepped  over  the  sharp  stones,  climbing  up  the  bank, 
swinging  from  point  to  point  by  taking  hold  of  the 


88  D  0  WNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

branches.     Agile  as  Daisy  was,  she  found  it  difficult 
to  keep  up. 

"  Hush  !  she  's  there." 

'*  Who  's  there  ?  "  and  Daisy  was  startled  at  the 
snapping  of  a  dry  limb  under  her  feet. 

*'  Mrs.  Lisle,  the  minister's  sister." 

"  The  crazy  woman  ?  " 

*'  Yes.  Let  us  go  back,"  and  Lydia  began  to  re- 
trace her  steps. 

"  There  's  no  cause  to  fear  her.  Let  us  speak  to 
her." 

**  She  's  just  as  white  as  a  sheet,"  and  Lydia 
pressed  still  nearer  to  Daisy. 

Instantly,  Nathan's  words  flashed  across  Daisy's 
brain,  and,  following  along  the  path,  she  came  into 
a  little  glade,  bright  with  sunshine.  Seated  on  the 
mossy  carpet  was  a  young,  slender  woman,  her  white 
dress  falling  loosely,  a  bright-colored  shawl  flung 
over  her  shoulders,  and  her  long  black  hair  threaded 
with  silver.  She  held  a  book  in  her  hand,  and 
whether  reading  or  talking,  Daisy  could  not  tell.  One 
look  at  the  pale,  sad  face,  and  Daisy  would  have 
gladly  made  a  retreat,  it  seemed  like  intrusion ;  and 
already  had  she  turned,  when  the  woman  raised  her 
eyes,  and  rising  with  a  graceful  dignity  began  to  talk 
as  to  one  whom  she  had  been  waiting  for. 

Daisy  was  no  longer  frightened;  she  knew  this  was 
not  unfrequently  the  manner  with  those  bereft  of 
reason;  and  she  allowed  herself  to  be  led  back  to  the 
seat,  while  the  sick  woman  petted  and  caressed  her, 
patting   her  face,  then  holding  her  a  little  from  her 


D  OWNWARD    AND    UPWARD.  89 

and  looking  into  her  eyes  with  the  utmost  tender- 
ness, all  the  while  talking  in  a  low,  sad  tone. 

**  She  's  thinking  of  her  child,"  thought  Daisy,  and 
all  unconsciously  what  she  knew  of  her  own  history 
came  up.  Of  course  there  was  nothing  in  common 
but  the  grief  Her  parents  were  English,  and  this 
woman  was  an  American  ;  it  made  her  think  of  it, 
that  was  all,  and  the  tears  trickled  slowly  down  her 
cheeks. 

Not  knowing  but  it  would  lead  to  excitement  on 
the  part  of  the  invalid,  she  at  length  won  her  to  go 
home,  by  promising  to  accompany  her.  Giving  her 
arm,  they  entered  a  path,  comparatively  smooth, 
leading  directly  to  Mr.  Hawley's  house.  Daisy  had 
twice  been  there ;  but  she  had  not  met  with  this 
woman,  neither  had  she  heard  the  name.  Nathan's 
woods  were  the  key.  Before  they  reached  the  gate 
Mr.  Hawley  met  them. 

**  We  have  been  to  the  ravine,  and  coming  out  we 
intruded  upon  this  invalid.  I  did  not  know  her 
habit,  and  I  persuaded  her  to  come  home.  Was  it 
right?"  and  Daisy  made  an  attempt  to  disengage 
herself 

"  You  did  right,  and  I  am  obliged  to  you ;  I  had 
just  started  for  her  as  I  saw  you  coming.  I  am 
surprised  at  the  fondness  she  expresses  for  you  It 
is  not  her  manner  to  notice  strangers  in  the  least." 

**  She  evidently  imagines  me  to  be  some  one 
whom  she  has  known.  Is  there  no  help,  Mr. 
Hawley?" 

"All  the  skill  in  the  country  has  been  brought  to 
8* 


90  DOIVNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

bear  upon  her  case.  Her  sadness  seems  to  deepen 
each  day,  and  of  late  her  physical  health  has  failed 
perceptibly." 

Soothing  and  quieting  more  by  his  manner  than 
by  his  words,  Mr.  Hawley  succeeded  in  winning  her 
to  walk  with  him,  leaving  Daisy  and  Lydia  to  pass 
on. 

"It's  no  use,"  Mrs.  White  said,  as  Lydia  related 
the  incident.  "  If  she  could  be  helped,  she  would 
have  been  years  ago.  'T  was  a  cruel  thing,  and 
somebody  will  have  to  answer  for  it.  I  've  heard 
.say  the  child  would  have  inherited  a  large  fortune, 
and  on  that  account  she  was  made  way  with.  Poor 
little  thing  !  it 's  almost  a  pity  her  mother  could  n't 
have  died  with  her." 

Seth  and  Ellen  did  not  return  until  sundown ;  and 
then  there  was  so  much  to  relate  of  the  mill  and  the 
blacksmith's-shop. 

"You  have  not  told  me  of  your  walk,"  said  Ellen, 
as  she  turned  to  Daisy. 

*'  Some  other  time  I  will  tell  you ;  it  is  too  late, 
and  you  must  rest." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

OVER    THE    FARM. 

AS  the  summer  deepened,  new  diversions  offered. 
It  was  a  novel  thing  for  Daisy  and  Ellen  to 
mount  Seth's  cart,  and  drive  over  the  farm, —  going 
with  him  to  bring  the  cows  at  night,  or  to  carry  salt 
to  the  sheep  pastures,  placing  it  upon  the  grass, 
and  watching  the  gentle  creatures  run  across  the 
field  as  Seth  called  them  with  a  peculiar  whistle, 
which  the  girls  tried  in  vain  to  imitate. 

One  of  the  chief  attractions  had  been  to  watch 
the  mower.  Mrs.  White's  fields  were  small,  but 
when  the  grass  was  ready,  a  neighboring  farmer 
came  with  a  noble  pair  of  matches,  driving  as 
proudly,  Ellen  said,  as  he  would  have  done  in  a 
carriage, —  the  grass  falling  behind  him  like  troops 
of  gallant  soldiers. 

"  It 's  nice  ;  but  not  half  as  pretty  as  the  old  way," 
Nathan  said,  as  he  crossed  his  arms  and  leaned  over 
the  fence. 

"  How  was  that,  Nathan  ?  " 

"  You  remember  that  old  scythe  hanging  up  in 
the  barn  ?  The  men,  a  dozen  of  them,  perhaps,  for 
such  a  field,  stripped  off  their  coats,  and,  grasping 
the  scythe  by  the  handles,  swung  it  steadily  back- 

91 


92  DO  WN  WARD  AND    UPWARD. 

ward  and  forward,  leaving  a  clean  swathe  behind 
them.  It  was  a  beautiful  thing  to  look  at,  but  hard 
work  to  do  it.  Many's  the  swathe  that  I  have  cut; 
and  every  now  and  then  some  one  stopped  to  whet 
his  scythe,  keeping  up  perpetual  music." 

"  How  long  ago  was  that,  Nathan  ?  " 

"  Not  so  very  long;  I'm  not  an  old  man  yet.  Be- 
sides, there 's  plenty  of  farmers  who  do  it  now.  These 
new-fangled  notions  cost  a  sight ;  only  rich  men  can 
have  'em." 

"  I  should  regard  it  as  a  very  great  improvement," 
said  Daisy,  looking  back  at  the  mower. 

"  He  will  finish  pretty  quick;  after  it  is  sufficiently 
dry,  he  will  put  one  horse  to  a  smaller  machine,  and 
rake  it  up  into  winroes,"  added  Nathan. 

"  I  never  knew  what  haymaking  was  before,"  said 
Ellen.  "  I  think  it's  nice  to  live  in  the  country  any 
way;  and  I  like  to  bring  home  the  cows:  they  seem 
to  know  just  when  we  are  coming,  standing  at  the 
bars,  and  turning  their  great  wondering  eyes  upon 
us;  and  I  do  believe  they  know  Daisy's  voice  and 
mine  just  as  well  as  they  do  Seth's." 

"  Folks  that  live  in  the  country  like  it.  We  can't 
have  everything  in  one  place,  though.  What  you 
have  we  haven't,  and  again  we  have  a  great  many 
things  that  we  wouldn't  exchange  for  city  life. 
Think  of  going  home  soon  ?  " 

**  If  we  could  only  persuade  papa  to  come  out.  I 
do  want  him  to  see  just  how  nice  everything  is," 
replied  Ellen. 

"  Would  you  like  to  live  here  for  good  ?  " 

"  If  papa  was  here." 


DOWNIVARD   AND    UPWARD.  93 

"  Perhaps  he  could  n't  content  himself  with  butter- 
flies and  birds'  nests.  Old  eyes  miss  something 
when  they  come  out." 

*'  You  don't  know  papa,  Nathan.  If  he  comes,  you 
must  see  him.     I  know  he  will  like  it." 

Not  a  week  but  Mr.  Delafield  sent  them  letters. 
Still  it  was  only  a  vague  idea,  his  leaving  the  city. 
Mrs.  Delafield  sometimes  favored  them,  and  Kate 
and  Agnes  added  a  postscript;  but,  unlike  the 
father's,'  leading  Ellen  to  say,  as  she  finished:  "I 
wonder  what  makes  mamma  tired?  Rachel  is  there; 
and  still  she  can  never  give  me  but  a  line,  she  has  so 
much  to  do." 

"She  has  to  go  out  a  good  deal,  I  presume;"  and, 
with  accustomed  tact,  Daisy  turned  the  conversation 
into  other  channels. 

"  I  am  going  to  the  village.  Have  you  letters  ?  " 
and  Seth  rode  up  on  Dolly's  back. 

"  No  letters  to  go  out.  You  will  please  bring  some 
when  you  return." 

''From  the  office?  or  shall  I  write  you  one?" 
asked  Seth,  good-humoredly. 

"  As  time  is  pressing,  we  will  not  exact  a  letter  on 
short  notice,"  and  Daisy  patted  Dolly's  neck,  and 
slipped  her  fingers  through  the  long  black  mane. 

"Want  a  ride  just  two  minutes  long?"  and  Seth 
put  out  his  long  arms  and  swung  Ellen  up  before 
him.  A  merry  laugh  rippled  through  the  rose-leaves, 
and  Dolly  went  cantering  down  the  walk  and  along 
the  flower-beds. 

"  I  Ve  been  trying  all  summer  to  get  a  saddle. 
Lydia  has  begged  me.    She  knew  you  would  like  it; 


94  DOWNWAR  D  AND    UPWARD. 

but  mother  felt  she  could  not  quite  afford  it.  Come 
up  next  summer,  and  we  '11  have  it,"  and  Dolly 
wheeled  up  to  the  porch. 

"  Glorious  !  is  n't  it?  "  and  Ellen's  cheeks  looked 
almost  as  rosy  as  Lydia's. 

As  Seth  started,  Daisy  proposed  a  visit  to  Mrs. 
Orcutt.  "  I  told  Nathan  that  we  would  call  this  week, 
and  it  is  the  last  day." 

"  If  you  go,  I  will  give  you  a  bottle  of  elderberry. 
I  have  n't  enough  for  everybody ;  but  I  've  known 
Mrs.  Orcutt  nigh  upon  thirty  years  now.  She  's  a 
good  woman  in  every  sense  of  the  word." 

"  What  may  I  take,  Mrs.  White  ?  " 

"  You  shall  carry  something,  child.  Lydia  can't 
go  to-night;  I  want  her.  I  don't  know.  Nathan  is 
a  good  provider.  I  suppose  his  mother  never  wants 
for  anything.  It 's  only  neighborly  to  think  of  her 
when  she  's  sick  ;  and  sometimes  things  cooked  out 
of  the  house  taste  better.  There  's  my  nice  rusks  for 
Sunday;  I  guess  I'll  send  some  of  them." 

**  And  that  little  pie  you  baked  for  me,  mother." 

"  Don't  you  want  it,  child  ?  " 

"I  know  it's  nice;  but  I'd  rather  she'd  have  it, 
mother." 

*'  I  declare,  I  never  saw  such  a  girl.  I  just  believe 
you  'd  give  away  all  you  have.  I  like  generosity ; 
but  this  giving  away  all  is  a  little  too  much." 

"  I  have  all  I  want,"  and  Lydia  tripped  into  the 
pantry,  her  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  her  white  arms 
ready  for  whatever  her  mother  desired  her  to  do. 

"  Tell  Aunt  Margaret  it  's  nigh  upon  seven  years 
old.     If  this  don't  set  her  up,  I  don't  know  what 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  95 

will ;  "  and  Mrs.  White  brought  a  bottle  of  wine 
from  the  cellar  and  gave  it  to  Daisy,  with  a  basket 
of  rusks,  and  the  pie  to  Ellen. 

"  I  shall  tell  her  who  sent  it,"  and  Ellen  threw  a 
bright  glance  at  Lydia. 

It  was  a  lovely  evening,  and  the  two  chatted  gayly 
as  they  went  down  the  road.  A  few  weeks  of  out- 
door life  had  made  a  great  difference  with  Ellen. 
Her  forehead  was  brown  from  exposure,  and  her 
cheeks  tinged  with  health.  No  longer  was  she 
obliged  to  measure  her  exercise  by  her  strength. 
She  could  safely  challenge  Lydia  to  a  race,  and  her 
dresses  were  all  too  small  for  her. 

**  Something  makes  mamma  sad,"  Ellen  said,  after 
exhausting  all  her  enthusiasm  on  the  beauty  of  the 
evening.  '*  I  am  sometimes  afraid  it  is  Jay  and 
Cyrus.  I  can  't  see  why  they  have  to  spend  so  much. 
Seth  is  a  great  deal  happier  than  they  are,  and  he 
hardly  ever  has  any  money  of  his  own." 

"  Seth  cares  more  about  books,"  said  Daisy ;  and 
she  once  more  endeavored  to  talk  of  something  else. 
Ellen  would  not  be  diverted.  She  was  anticipating 
letters  when  Seth  returned,  and  her  little  active  brain 
was  already  on  the  alert. 

*'  If  they  could  see  papa  as  I  have  seen  him,  they  'd 
do  differently.  I  just  know  what  I  '11  do ;  I  '11  tell 
them.  I  will  not  see  him  troubled.  If  he  would 
only  come  out  here.  Or,  Daisy,  don't  you  think  we 
can  persuade  him  to  stay  ?  " 

"His  business  is  in  the  city,  and  it  might  not  be 
easy  for  him  to  make  the  change ;  "  and  Daisy 
plucked  a  buttercup,  and  held  it  under  Ellen's  chin. 


96  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

Mrs.  Orcutt's  house  was  a  brown,  one-story  build- 
ing, on  the  outskirts  of  the  village,  —  a  small  yard 
in  front,  filled  with  lilacs,  roses,  and  mountain  ash. 
In  the  background  a  well,  with  a  long  sweep,  shel- 
tered by  a  towering  elm.  Maples  bordered  the  road- 
side, and  a  happier-looking  place  was  not  to  be  found. 
Nathan  had  made  his  accustomed  rounds,  and  sat 
smoking  in  the  door,  his  coat  thrown  aside,  and  a 
general  air  of  enjoyment  pervading  his  entire  being^ 

''  Do  not  let  us  disturb  you,"  Daisy  said,  as  Nathan 
laid  down  his  pipe,  snatched  up  his  coat,  and  came 
forward  to  meet  them. 

"  It 's  no  trouble  for  me  to  see  ladies  any  time. 
I've  often  told  mother  >ou  ought  not  to  come  just 
when  you  know  I  'm  away.  I  brought  you  here,  and 
I  think  I  Ve  about  as  good  a  right  to  see  you  now 
and  then  as  anybody." 

"  It  has  not  been  convenient  for  us  to  come  when 
you  w^ere  likely  to  be  here,  Nathan.  We  were  quite 
sure  of  you  to-night,"  said  Daisy. 

"  Mother  will  be  glad  to  see  you.  She  is  much 
better  to-day.     Walk  right  in." 

It  was  not  the  first  time  Daisy  and  Ellen  had  been 
to  Mrs.  Orcutt's  house,  and  the  room  wore  a  familiar 
look.  Seated  in  her  arm-chair,  her  white  hair  put 
back  under  a  muslin  cap,  her  calico  wrapper  fresh 
and  clean,  with  spectacles  on  her  nose,  the  good 
woman  was  reading. 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  children,"  she  said,  as  she 
held  out  her  arms.  "  It  is  good  of  you  to  remember 
an  old  woman  like  me." 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  97 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you  are  able  to  read,"  said 
Daisy,  lifting  the  book. 

"  It 's  a  great  comfort  to  me.  Lying  on  my  bed, 
and  racked  with  pain,  I  could  think  of  His  love.  His 
arms  were  underneath  me.  My  little  life  was  dear 
to  Him.  But  I  like  to  read  His  word  ;  and  the  more 
I  read,  the  dearer  it  is  to  me.  It  is  a  precious  privi- 
lege to  love  Jesus.  I  am  glad  to  know  that  you  are 
striving  to  follow  Him  in  your  youth." 

**  I  sometimes  fear  that  I  do  not  love  Him  in  sin- 
cerity. I  find  so  much  evil  in  my  heart  —  so  many 
foolish,  wicked  thoughts." 

"  Yours  is  not  a  peculiar  case.  Paul  knew  what  it 
was.  It  is  only  by  His  grace  that  we  overcome;  and 
the  discipline  of  years  is  necessary  for  a  ripe  growth 
of  Christian  experience  and  love." 

"  Sometimes  I  feel  that  I  am  making  some  advance 
—  sure  that  I  shall  never  again  feel  like  questioning 
His  love  or  doubting  His  faithfulness  ;  the  next,  and 
I  find  myself  desponding,  the  glory  of  His  face  hid 
from  my  view." 

"  I  used  to  be  troubled  that  way  more  than  I  am 

now,"  replied  the  invalid.     "  I  used  to  feel  that,  small 

as  I  was,  and  poor.  He  might  forget  me.     I  read  His 

promises,  but  I  did  not  dare  to  take  them  to  myself 

I  tortured  myself  by  thinking  that  they  were  intended 

for  somebody  else.     It  was  not  until  I  lost  well-nigh 

everything   that   I   learned   to    trust    Him — that   I 

learned  to  take  Him  at  His  word:  *  Whosoever  will.' 

There  are  not  two  words  in  the  whole  book  so  dear 

to  me  as  these.     *  Whosoever:'  there  's   no  shutting 
9  G 


qS  do  wn wa rd  a nd  up  wa r d. 

out ;  the  poorest  may  come,  the  weakest,  the  most 
ignorant ;  there  is  no  danger  of  being  forgotten. 
Jesus  knows  his  own,  and  they  are  known  of  Him  ; 
neither  shall  they  ever  be  plucked  out  of  His  hand, 
'  Whosoever  will.'  I  knew  that  meant  me  :  I  was 
sure  of  it ;  and  I  have  been  happy  ever  since." 

Nathan  had  been  with  Ellen  into  the  garden,  and 
they  had  returned  with  their  hands  full  of  flowers 
and  a  basket  of  early  apples. 

"Just  about  as  nice  as  you'll  see  anywhere,  I  guess. 
The  nectarines  are  not  quite  turned.  In  general,  the 
fruit  is  quite  fine  this  season.  When  did  you  hear 
from  your  father  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  week  since.  Seth  has  gone  to  the  office. 
We  shall  probably  find  letters  when  we  reach  home." 
**  If  he  '11  come  in  a  week  or  two,  he  '11  find  plenty 
of  everything  to  eat,  better  than  anything  to  be  found 
in  the  city.  Market  fruit  has  not  the  freshness, 
neither  the  flavor,  as  when  picked  from  the  tree." 

Before  they  left,  Nathan  showed  them  through  the 
apple  orchard,  and  Ellen's  delight  was  unbounded 
as  she  passed  under  limbs  weighed  down  with  rich 
golden  fruit.  Going  home,  Mr.  Hawley  joined  them, 
and  before  Daisy  was  aware,  she  was  telling  him  her 
own  little  history,  the  circumstances  under  which  she 
went  to  live  with  Mr.  Delafield,  etc. 

**  It  is  only  about  twelve  years  since?"  asked  Mr. 
Hawley,  absently. 

"Nearly  thirteen.  Ellen  was  a  little  thing  —  a  baby." 
"And  you  were  judged  to  be  three  or  four  years 
old?" 


D  0  WN  IV A  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  99 

"  So  I  have  been  told." 

Mr.  Hawley  shook  his  head.  All  day  there  had 
been  a  tangled  thread.  Of  course  there  was  no 
accounting  for  the  fancies  of  delirium  ;  but  the  inva- 
lid's fondness  for  Daisy  was  each  day  increasing,  and 
under  the  influence  of  her  presence  the  poor  woman 
showed  less  of  mental  disorder.  Durino;  several 
interviews,  Mr.  Hawley  had  watched  her  carefully, 
and  there  was  evidently  some  spell  or  influence  that 
he  did  not  understand ;  such  a  look  of  rest  on  the 
invalid's  face,  such  deep  tenderness  in  the  eyes,  and, 
as  soon  as  separated,  a  sorrow  deeper,  more  impene- 
trable than  before.  But  it  was  fifteen  in  the  room  of 
thirteen  years.  Of  course  it  could  not  be  the  same. 
And  to  his  study  the  good  clergyman  went,  feeling 
oppressed  with  a  question  that  it  was  in  vain  for  him 
to  unravel. 

The  stars  were  out  when  Seth  returned  —  he  had 
been  unexpectedly  detained  —  and  he  placed  a  pack- 
age of  letters  and  papers  upon  the  table. 

**  Not  one  from  papa!"  exclaimed  Ellen,  as  she 
looked  them  over. 

"Here  is  one  from  Dr.  Landseer;"  and  Daisy 
broke  the  envelope. 

"  He  must  be  coming ;  on  his  way,  perhaps,  and 
the  doctor  has  written  to  have  us  prepared,"  said 
Ellen,  gayly. 

"  No,  Ellen,"-  as  Daisy  ran  her  eye  over  the  page. 
"  Papa  is  ill,  very  ill.  Dr.  Landseer  says  we  must 
come  at  once.  We  must  ask  Nathan  to  take  us  to 
the  cars,  and  the  doctor  will  meet  us  at  the  depot." 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    SICK    CHAMBER. 

THE  transition  from  the  charming  abandon  of  out- 
door life  to  a  sick  room  would  have  been  felt, 
had  Daisy  and  Ellen  found  time  to  think  of  them- 
selves. Mr.  Delafield  was  seriously  ill,  and  the  ut- 
most care  was  needful,  if  his  life  was  to  be  saved. 
Hearing  of  his  illness,  and  knowing  that  his  wife  and 
daughters  were  absent,  Mrs.  Clayton  hastened  to  offer 
her  assistance,  and  Dr.  Landseer  did  not  refuse  it. 

"  We  will  send  for  Daisy,"  he  said.  "  She  has  a 
ready  hand ;  and  Ellen  will  prove  no  drawback. 
For  the  rest,  I  shall  let  them  remain  where  they  are." 

"  Your  father  is  very  ill,"  Dr.  Landseer  said  to 
Ellen,  as  she  rushed  forward  to  meet  him.  "  It  is 
possible  that  he  will  recover;  and  if  he  does,  it  will 
depend  more  upon  nursing  than  upon  medicines. 
Control  yourself,  and  go  in  and  out  of  the  room  just 
as  though  you  had  not  been  away.  Say  and  do 
nothing  to  excite  him.  And  you,"  turning  to  Daisy, 
"will  quickly  see  what  is  wanting.  I  depend  upon 
you.  Mrs.  Clayton  is  a  good  woman.  She  will  not 
leave  the  house,  and  I  will  do  what  I  can."  With 
this,  the  doctor  left  them  at  their  own  door. 

Mrs.  Clayton  anticipated  their  coming,  and  stood 
in  the  hall  ready  to  receive  them. 


DOWNWARDAND    UPWARD.  lOI 

"Mr.  Delafield  is  very  ill;  but,  if  it  please  God,  he 
will  recover,"  she  said,  as  she  held  them  in  her  arms. 
There  was  strength  and  hope  in  the  words ;  and 
pushing  down  the  sobs,  the  two  girls  ran  up  to  their 
room.  Hastily  throwing  off  her  travelling-dress, 
Daisy  put  on  a  light  wrapper  and  slippers,  taking 
care  that  there  was  nothing  to  rustle,  or  disturb  the 
invalid.  Ellen  attired  herself  in  the  same  manner ; 
and,  following  at  a  little  distance  apart,  both  stood  in 
the  sick  chamber. 

Illness  makes  strange  havoc  with  the  faces  of  those 
we  love ;  and  as  Daisy  looked  at  the  wasted  cheeks, 
crimson  with  fever,  and  the  wild,  restless  eyes,  she 
trembled  like  an  aspen.  Wearily  the  invalid  tossed  on 
his  bed,  and  Ellen's  name  was  murmured  fondly.  Mrs. 
Clayton  made  a  sign  to  the  child.  Gliding  to  the  bed- 
side, she  laid  her  cool  hand  on  the  throbbing  temples. 

"  Now,  then,  that  is  like  my  own  little  girl.  The 
days  have  been  long  since  I  missed  my  little  fairy." 

"  Papa,  dear  papa, "  and  the  rosy  lips  trembled  on 
the  flushed  forehead. 

"  There  !  there  !  that  is  like  her,"  and  the  wild  eyes 
softened.  Did  he  know  her?  She  was  not  sure; 
but  she  felt  that  her  presence  was  a  comfort  to  him, 
and,  sinking  on  her  knees,  she  soothed  the  aching 
head  till  he  slept. 

From  that  moment,  Daisy  and  Ellen  never  left 
him,  and  Mrs.  Clayton  watched  with  a  mother's  so- 
licitude over  each. 

Dr.  Landseer,  from  motives  of  his  own,  had  not 
informed   Mrs.  Delafield   of  the    danger.      He  had 


102  DOWNWARD  ^  N-D    UPWARD. 

merely  written  that  her  husband  was  ill,  at  the  same 
time  advising  her  to  remain.  Mrs.  Clayton  was  there, 
and  ev^erything  was  being  done.  If  her  presence  was 
necessary,  he  would  let  her  know. 

*'  It  will  be  fatal  to  have  those  rustlincf  G^irls,"  he 
said  to  Mrs.  Clayton.  **  I  will  send  for  Daisy  and 
Ellen  ;  and  besides  these  a  soul  shall  not  enter  his 
room." 

Dr.  Landseer  was  as  good  as  his  word.  The  waves 
of  dissipation  rolling  back  from  the  sea-shore,  "Send 
for  Di  immediately,"  returned  Mrs.  Delafield.  "  She 
is  a  far  better  nurse  than  I  am.  It  is  now  in  the 
height  of  the  season.  Kate  and  Agnes  would  break 
their  hearts,  should  I  oblige  them  to  return." 

"  They  need  not  break  their  hearts,"  said  the  doctor, 
under  his  breath.  ** There  's  another  way  of  doing 
it,  I  'm  afraid ;  "  and  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Delafield  to 
remain,  and  watched  and  waited  to  see  how  the  scale 
would  turn. 

Through  all  those  dreary  days  the  invalid  hardly 
knew  one  lucid  moment,  while  Daisy  was  compelled 
to  listen  to  many  a  revelation  from  which  she  would 
gladly  have  escaped.  Without  attempting  to  unravel, 
she  saw  that  perplexity  in  business  had  much  to  do 
with  it ;  and  bills  of  unthought-of  expenditure  floated 
out  in  incoherent  words  and  half-uttered  syllables. 
These  must  have  been  contracted  by  Jay  and  Cyrus^ 
for,  expensive  as  the  young  ladies  were,  the  items 
enumerated  could  not  have  been  set  down  to  their 
account.  When  the  invalid  was  in  this  mood,  Daisy 
attempted,  as  far  as  possible,  to  remove  Ellen  and 


D  O  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  IO3 

Mrs,  Clayton.  Ellen  could  not  command  herself, 
and  Daisy  could  not  bear  that  Mrs.  Clayton  should 
have  the  key  to  so  much  trouble. 

"  Do  people  in  delirium  usually  talk  of  what 
troubled  them  in  health  ? "  Daisy  asked  of  Dr. 
Landseer. 

"  It  depends  upon  the  cause  that  produced  delir- 
ium. Brooding  long  over  one  subject  tends  to  throw 
the  mind  off  the  track.  In  that  case,  the  tangled 
threads  and  broken  links  would  cling  with  more  or 
less  tenacity  to  the  subject  in  question.  Do  not  be 
too  much  troubled.  Mr.  Delafield  has  been  greatly 
perplexed.  These  boys  are  making  him  a  great  deal 
of  trouble.  Buoyed  up  by  their  father's  wealth,  they 
have  run  into  all  kinds  of  excess.  For  two  years 
their  bills  have  been  enormous,  and  Mr.  Delafield 
sees  that,  if  this  course  is  continued,  it  will  crush 
him.  It  was  this  that  kept  him  through  all  the  sum- 
mer days  so  closely  at  his  desk ;  and  here  is  the 
result." 

At  length  there  came  a  change, —  a  day  wnen  the 
fever  left  him  ;  and  he  lay  white  and  still,  and  almost 
as  helpless  as  an  infant.  Tears  ran  down  his  cheeks, 
and  his  lips  trembled,  as  Ellen  put  her  arms  around 
his  neck. 

"  Dear  papa,  you  have  been  so  sick;  and  we  could 
do  nothing  but  watch  and  wait,  and  tell  Jesus.  He 
has  been  pleased  to  make  you  better.  I  could  not 
live  without  you,  papa." 

It  was  a  happy  hour  for  Daisy,  when  Mr.  Delafield 
looked  into  her  face,  and  knew  whose  hand  minis- 
tered to  his  wants. 


1 04  DO  IVN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  W  A  R  D. 

"  And  you  have  been  with  me  through  this  terrible 
fever,"  he  said,  at  length. 

"  You  had  been  ill  but  a  few  days  when  we  re- 
turned," Daisy  replied. 

"  I  remember,  the  day  before  I  took  my  bed,  I  felt 
that  I  must  send  for  you.  But  when  I  thought  of 
your  passing  the  summer  so  happily,  and  the  health 
my  little  girl  was  drinking  in, as  the  effect  of  out-door 
life  and  exercise,  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to 
do  it." 

"  I  am  only  sorry  that  you  did  not  send  at  once. 
It  might  have  saved  you  days  of  suffering.  As  it  is, 
we  must  do  our  best.  The  doctor  says  care  is  only 
wanting  to  have  you  up  again." 

"  Dr.  Landseer  is  a  good  man  as  well  as  a  good 
physician.     I  owe  him  more  than  I  can  ever  pay." 

There  was  nothing  like  conversation  in  Mr.  Dela- 
field's  room.  Still,  words  were  dropped,  destined  to 
take  root  and  bring  forth  fruit.  Mr.  Delafield  had 
never  been  a  religious  man  ;  but  there  was  some- 
thing in  Ellen's  speech,  and  in  the  book  she  read, 
that  thrilled  him  with  new  and  strange  emotion. 
Religion  was  not  the  myth  that  he  had  thought  it  to 
be.  There  was  form  and  comeliness,  and  instinctively 
he  began  to  question.  Gradually  light  dawned  upon 
his  understanding.  Not  that  he  saw  clearly.  As 
the  blind  man  saw  men  as  trees,  walking,  so  Mr. 
Delafield  saw  the  rich  truths  of  divine  grace  and 
love. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  these  days  of  convales- 
cence were  the  happiest  he  had  known.     A  soft  and 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  IO5 

soothing  quiet  had  crept  over  him,  and  he  longed  to 
have  it  always  last.  Fruit  is  not  gathered  from  neg- 
lected vines,  and  gold  is  not  garnered  without  plan- 
ning. Business  pressed  heavily;  the  wants  of  a 
household  must  be  met. 

"  I  am  well  enough  to  lay  aside  my  gown  and 
staff,"  said  Mr.  Delafield,  as  he  walked  across  the 
room  without  the  aid  of  Daisy's  arm.  "  It  was  a 
fearful  illness;  but  I  have  really  enjoyed  getting 
well." 

"  Not  half  as  much  as  we  have,  papa,"  and  Ellen 
slid  her  hand  into  her  father's.  "  How  nice  it  would 
be,  could  we  live  in  this  way  all  the  time.  I  mean 
to  read  and  talk  just  as  we  have  been  doing.  When 
mamma  comes  back,  the  house  will  be  full,  and  we 
shall  never  see  you,  papa." 

A  cloud  settled  on  the  thin  face.  Ellen  had 
touched  a  chord  that  vibrated  through  his  being. 
What  a  false,  hollow  life  !  Not  that  Mr.  Delafield 
was  unsocial,  but  this  constant  whirl  and  dazzle,  the 
glittering  tinsel  of  a  v/orldly  creed,  "to  do  as  others 
do,"  regardless  of  home  and  comfort.  Mrs.  Dela- 
field did  not  court  display  for  herself.  As  a  mother, 
she  felt  it  to  be  imperative ;  the  welfare  of  her 
daughters  demanded  it ;  and  if  she  would,  she  had 
not  the  courage  to  set  the  example  of  cultivating  the 
hearts  and  the  heads  of  her  daughters.  Such  a 
course  would  be  called  eccentric,  or,  what  was  worse, 
strong-mindedness.  Mrs.  Delafield  was  not  a  woman 
to  clamor  **  for  rights."  She  honored  her  husband.  It 
was  not  in  her  nature  to  assume  the  least  of  his  pre- 


I06  DO  ]VN  \VA  R  D   A  XD    UP  WA  R  D. 

rogatives.  Her  realm  was  in  the  affections,  and  she 
verily  believed  that  she  was  acting  in  just  the  way  and 
manner  to  bring  about  the  desired  effect.  Flowers, 
to  be  appreciated,  must  be  seen.  Gold  is  of  no  use 
hid  away  in  the  earth.  The  diamond  and  the  charcoal 
are  all  the  same  when  buried  in  darkness.  J\Irs.  Dela- 
field's  daughters  were  of  suitable  age  to  be  estab- 
lished in  homes  of  their  own.  As  a  mother,  she 
wished  them  to  form  worthy  alliances.  She  did  not 
stop  to  question  if  they  were  prepared  to  take  upon 
themselves  the  responsibility  of  wife  and  mother. 
It  was  not  the  fashion  to  do  this ;  besides,  they 
would  learn  it  as  they  went  along.     She  did. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  are  quite  recovered,"  Mrs. 
Delafield  wrote  to  her  husband.  "  I  felt  relieved 
when  I  learned  that  Di  was  at  home.  She  has  a 
natural  tact  about  many  things  that  I  have  all  my 
life  found  it  impossible  to  attain.  I  am  delighted  to 
hear  that  Ellen  has  grown  so  strong  and  healthy. 
She  writes  me  that  she  is  as  brown  as  a  berry.  I 
trust,  now  that  she  is  with  you,  her  complexion  is 
duly  cared  for.  Tell  her  to  wear  her  bonnet  in  the 
rooms,  or,  perhaps,  she  had  better  wear  a  mask  at  night. 
1  think' Di  might  make  one,  such  as  Kate  wore  when 
she  returned  from  the  country.  Ellen  was  so  clear, 
I  can  't  bear  to  think  that  her  cheeks  are  brown  and 
coarse.  Di  was  never  fair;  it  does  not  matter  so 
much  with  her.  You  will  be  delighted  to  know  that 
Kate  and  Agnes  have  improved.  Kate  is  considered 
the  belle  of  the  season,  and  Mr.  Flashman  is  envied 
by  all  the  male  circle.     I  used  to  wish  the  choice 


n  OWN  WARD  AND    UPWARD.  10/ 

might  fall  on  Mr.  Lyndsey.  He  was  here  a  few  da>s, 
and,  just  as  we  heard  of  your  illness,  he  went  to  the 
country.  He  is  certainly  a  very  superior  young  man, 
and,  although  not  as  rich  as  Mr.  Flashman,  I  would 
greatly  prefer  him  for  a  son-in-law.  I  feel  quite  sure 
that  Agnes's  penchant  for  young  Stanton  is  wearing 
off  I  trust  so;  for  rumor  speaks  not  well  of  him. 
Tiiey  say  that  he  has  a  wife.  As  for  that  matter, 
biowever,  I  do  not  believe  it.  Still,  I  would  rather 
Agnes  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  him.  Jay  has 
been  very  attentive  to  me.  His  horses  are  the  finest 
here,  and  he  drives  well.  I  hope  he  is  beginning  to 
turn  a  new  leaf.  I  never  knew  how  much  trouble 
one  has  with  sons.  Cyrus  seems  to  have  fallen 
deeply  in  love  with  a  lady,  not  pretty,  and,  I  should 
judge,  not  amiable ;  but  her  father  is  said  to  be  im- 
mensely rich,  and  she  drives  and  dresses  superbly. 
Kate  does  all  she  can  to  fan  the  flame.  I  hardly 
know  how  matters  stand.  Pardon,  my  dear,  this 
little  gossip  ;  it  is  of  our  children.  We  shall  be  at 
home  in  two  weeks.  Tell  Di  to  have  the  house 
properly  aired  and  cleansed.  I  am  glad  to  know  that 
she  is  fresh  and  strong.  We  are  thoroughly  tired 
out,  and  the  effort  of  leave-taking  and  packing  will 
try  us  still  more.  With  so  much  to  do,  it  is  possible 
I  shall  not  write  again  before  we  leave.  As  soon  as 
you  receive  this,  please  send  a  draft.  My  purse  is 
nearly  empty,  and  I  promised  Jay  a  parting  supper 
to  his  friends." 

Mr.  Delafield  read  his  letter,  folded  and  placed  it 
in  his  desk.     Resting  his  elbow  on  the  table,  his  head 


1 08  DO  WN  WARD  A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

fell  forward,  and  quick  thoughts  surged  through  his 
mind.  He  had  just  sent  all  the  money  that  he  con- 
sidered necessary.  Now  another  demand,  and  that 
for  a  supper,  that  woula  bring  little  real  enjoyment. 
Should  he  comply  with  this  request?  or  should  he, 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  refuse  the  least  desire 
expressed  by  his  wife  ?  He  did  not  like  to  do  this ; 
and,  still,  where  was  it  to  end  ? 

How  long  he  would  have  indulged  this  mood  is 
uncertain.  It  was  Daisy's  voice  that  roused  him, 
and  then  he  felt  a  pair  of  soft  arms  clasp  his  neck, 
and  Ellen  nestled  her  face  to  his. 

**  Are  you  ill,  papa  ?  Dr.  Landseer  said  it  would  n't 
do  for  you  to  get  sick  again.  What  did  he  mean  by 
that  ?  that  you  would  n't  get  well  if  you  did  ?  " 

'*  Dr.  Landseer  is  very  careful  of  papa." 

"  So  are  we  all.  We  cannot  live  without  you, 
papa." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Mr.  Delafield  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  keep  back  the  tears. 

"  Di  said  you  had  a  letter  from  mamma.  When 
are  they  coming  home  ?  " 

"  In  two  weeks." 

"  Our  good  times  \\\\\  all  be  gone  then." 

"  Not  when  your  mother  comes,  my  child  ?  " 

*•  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  mamma ;  but  there  will 
be  so  many  here,  I  shall  never  get  to  see  you  and 
Di." 

"  Let  us  hope  it  will  be  different." 

"  If  we  could  only  live  in  the  country,  papa.  I  am 
sure  you  would  like  it." 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  IO9 

"A  good  while  ago,  when  papa  was  a  small  boy, 
he  lived  in  the  country.  He  has  never  been  as  happy 
since  as  he  was  then." 

"  Perhaps  we  can  go  and  live  there  again.  I  would 
like  to,  papa ;  and  so  would  Di,  and  mamma,  I  hope. 
Kate  and  Agnes  would  think  it  dull,  Di  says." 

Through  the  folding-doors  came  the  tinkle  of  the 
tea-bell.  Mr.  Delafield  felt  it  a  relief.  His  heart 
was  too  full  to  talk  with  his  child  —  the  pent-up  feel- 
ing of  years  seemed  ready  to  burst  forth.  His  old 
home  in  the  country  was  before  him  ;  the  purity  and 
the  freshness  of  his  boyhood  in  marked  contrast  to 
the  care  and  sorrow  he  had  since  known.  With  an 
effort  at  self-control,  only  learned  by  contact  with  the 
world,  Mr.  Delafield  did  his  part  to  make  the  meal 
cheerful  and  happy,  bringing  up  little  incidents  in  his 
early  life,  and  painting  scenes  that  filled  Ellen's  blue 
eyes  with  delight.  Then  excusing  himself  on  the  plea 
of  letters  to  write,  he  withdrew  to  his  room,  to  puzzle 
his  brain  till  morning  in  forming  and  arranging 
plans  by  which  to  free  himself  from  embarrassment, 
his  business  every  day  becoming  more  and  more 
alarming. 


10 


CHAPTER  XL 

FAMILY   JARS. 

AS  the  winds  went  sighing  through  the  tree-tops, 
the  city  put  on  her  gayest  attire,  sweeping  from 
country  and  shore  the  health-seeking  and  pleasure- 
loving  crowd.  Mrs.  Delafield  and  family  had  returned. 
Jay  and  Cyrus  were  driving  dashing  turnouts  up  and 
down  Broadway  instead  of  the  sea-side. 

'*  What  a  fright  Ellen  has  grown  to  be !  "  was  Kate's 
exclamation,  as  she  seated  herself  at  the  breakfast- 
table,  the  first  morning  at  home.  "  She  looks  like 
a  little  Arab." 

"  I  have  never  seen  her  looking  better,"  said  Mr. 
Delafield,  as  he  patted  the  rosy  cheek.  "  Health  is 
the  crowning  beauty." 

"  That 's  one  of  the  drawbacks  to  a  life  in  the 
country,  —  one  grows  dark  and  coarse." 

**  Forty  times  more  beauty,  as  father  says.  Any- 
thing but  a  doll-faced  woman,"  exclaimed  Cyrus. 

"  Of  course !  of  course !  "  and  Kate  clapped  her 
hands,  and  laughed  meaningly.  "  I  forgot  the  en  - 
chantress  lives  in  the  country,  drinks  cream,  and 
bathes  in  dew." 

**  The  doubloons  will  reconcile  a  fellow  to  almost 
anything,"  said  Jay. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  Ill 

A  passionate  glance  shot  out  from  Cyrus's  eyes, 
and  his  face  was  white  with  suppressed  rage. 

"  At  the  way  you  are  going  on,  an  arrangement 
of  that  kind  would  not  be  amiss.  I  advise  you  to 
think  of  it,  or  you  may  draw  up  when  you  least  ex- 
pect it." 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  banter  each  other  in  this 
way,"  said  Mrs.  Delafield.  ''  It  is  a  habit  that  I  very 
much  disapprove." 

Mr.  Delafield  was  reading  his  paper,  and  appar- 
ently oblivious. 

"You  should  see  how  happy  people  live  in  the 
country,"  said  Ellen,  naively. 

"  Hush  talking  of  the  country.  We  had  enough 
of  it  the  week  that  Herbert  Lyndsey  was  at  the  shore. 
He  could  talk  of  little  else,  and  at  last  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  there.  I  was  glad.  A  thousand  pities 
that  he  did  n't  happen  to  fall  into  the  place  where 
you  and  Di  were." 

Di  was  waiting  on  the  table ;  and,  save  that  her 
cheeks  were  crimson,  there  was  no  sign  that  she  saw 
or  heard. 

"  I  used  to  think  there  was  taste  and  discernment 
about  him.     I  was  mistaken,"  continued  Kate. 

*^  It  will  take  something  besides  a  fly-hook,"  said 
Jay,  with  irony  in  his  tone. 

Kate  sprang  up,  showing  her  small  teeth,  and  rais- 
ing her  hand  threateningly. 

"  I  do  wish  Jay  wouldn't  tease  Kate  as  he  does;" 
and  Ellen  flung  herself  into  Di's  arms.  "  Papa  don't 
like  it.  You  should  have  seen  his  face  behind  the 
paper;  and  mamma's  eyes  were  full  of  tears." 


112  DO  WN  WA  R  D   A  ND    UP  WARD. 

"  It  is  a  habit  of  his.  He  does  not  mean  to  annoy 
her." 

*'  Can't  you  talk  with  him,  Di  ?  Can't  you  tell  him 
how  bad  it  makes  papa  feel  ?  " 

"  I  hardly  think  it  advisable  for  me  to  speak  to 
him  about  it.  One  thing  we  can  do  :  when  we  are 
with  him,  we  can  try  to  keep  the  conversation  in 
such  a  channel  that  teasing  will  be  out  of  place. 
More  than  this:  we  can  ask  that  he  be  led  to  see  how 
much  unhappiness  it  brings." 

"  I  do  wish  we  could  see  Mr.  Hawley,  and  Seth, 
and  his  mother,  and  Lydia.  How  much  happier  they 
live  than  we  do." 

"  We  must  not  forget  what  Mr.  Parton  says, — 
that  everybody  has  something  to  try  them." 

"  I  would  n't  mind  it,  if  papa  was  happy." 

"  Papa  will  be  happier,  if  he  sees  us  happy." 

**  But  tell  me,  Di,  is  my  face  so  very  brown  ?  Do 
I  look  like  an  Arab  ?  " 

**  You  are  certainly  not  as  white  and  clear  as  be- 
fore we  went  to  Tipton.  You  look  healthier  and, 
papa  thinks,  handsomer.  But  you  must  not  forget, 
Ellen,  that  it  is  the  spirit  looking  out  from  the  eyes, 
speaking  in  the  voice,  and  lighting  up  the  entire  face, 
that  gives  beauty.  This  is  a  cultivated  gift  as  well 
as  a  natural  endowment." 

"  Kate  is  beautiful.     I  am  not  like  her,  Di." 

"  Kate  has  a  lovely  face." 

"  I  would  like  to  be  beautiful." 

"  In  order  to  be  loved  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Di." 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  II3 

*'  To  be  amiable  wins  a  more  lasting  love.  The 
richest  perfume  is  given  to  the  plainest  flowers." 

"  Is  beauty  a  gift  for  which  we  are  responsible  ?  " 

"  The  more  that  is  given,  the  more  will  be  re- 
quired." 

"  Are  we  responsible  for  our  faces  ?  " 

"  The  spirit  we  cherish  gives  expression  to  the 
face.     For  this  we  are  responsible." 

"  Di,  where  is  my  velvet  mantle?"  and  Agnes 
stood  in  the  door.  "  I  can  't  find  it  anywhere;  and 
mother  and  Kate  are  in  the  carriage." 

"  I  have  not  seen  it.  You  wore  a  shawl  yester- 
day." 

"  For  that  very  reason  I  want  a  change  to-day." 

"  Let  us  look  for  it,"  and  Daisy  opened  the  drawers. 
"Are  you  sure  it  was  unpacked?  " 

"  Of  course  it  was.  That 's  always  the  way  with 
my  things.  I  never  can  find  them.  And  my  gloves 
and  veil,  Di.  I  wish  you  would  have  a  little  consid- 
eration. Going  out  as  much  as  I  do,  I  cannot  be  ex- 
pected to  see  that  everything  is  in  its  place." 

"  I  have  the  mantle,"  and  Daisy  held  it  up. 

"  No ;  I  want  the  one  lined  with  white." 

"  Won't  this  answer  ?  " 

"  That 's  a  silly  question.  Yellow  satin  against 
my  dress!     I  always  knew  you  had  no  taste." 

"  Your  mother  is  impatient,"  and  Rachel  ran  up 
the  stairs. 

"  Not  till  I  find  my  mantle." 

"  Which  ?  " 

"  The  black  velvet  lined  with  white  satin." 
10*  H 


114  DO  IVN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D 

"  I  know  where  it  is,"  and  Rachel  brought  it  from 
Agnes's  room. 

"  It  would  save  me  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  if  you 
would  put  things  where  I  can  find  them." 

Drawing  on  her  gloves,  Agnes  walked  leisurely 
dqwn  stairs. 

As  the  winter  approached,  there  was  still  more 
commotion  in  Mr.  Delafield's  family.  The  wedding 
was  to  take  place  early  in  the  season ;  and  a  countless 
round  of  calls  and  congratulations  kept  all  in  excite- 
ment. While  Kate  was  basking  in  bridal  favor, 
dreaming  of  the  magnificent  trousseau  and  the  covbeille 
direct  from  Paris,  Agnes  was  keeping  up  a  clandes- 
tine correspondence  with  Horace  Stanton, 

At  first,  this  went  on  smoothly.  Each  morning  a 
letter  was  sure  to  be  found  in  the  corner  of  the  shut- 
ters, and  at  night  another  was  as  carefully  deposited 
in  the  rose-bush  nearest  to  the  gate;  but  as  the  winter 
set  in,  and  the  protecting  leaves  were  carried  by  the 
winds  to  carpet. the  street,  this  was  a  dangerous  ex- 
periment. At  length  Barbara  was  bribed,  and  the 
tiny  missives  came  and  went  regularly.  Barbara  had 
a  conscience,  however, —  something  not  found  in  the 
rose-bush  and  shutters  ;  and  one  night  she  awoke 
from  a  frightful  dream,  and  began  to  think  that  she 
was  doing  wrong.  There  was  no  priest  to  confess 
to,  and,  more  accustomed  to  act  than  to  reason,  slie 
did  not  see  why  one  would  not  do  as  well  as  another. 
It  is  said  that  eveiy  one  has  his  ideal ;  be  this  as  it 
may,  Barbara  had  hers,  and  to  Di  she  went  to  con- 
fess, with  all  the  sanctity  she  would  have  manifested 
had  his  Holiness  been  there  himself. 


BOW  A'' WARD  AND    UPWARD.  II5 

"  How  long  have  you  been  the  bearer  of  letters  ?  " 
asked  Daisy,  as  Barbara  faltered  out  her  story. 

**  Ever  since  the  masquerade,  you  know.  I  went 
with  Rachel  to  help  'em  dress." 

**  Who  gave  you  the  first  ?  " 

"  The  crentleman  himself  I  was  brinsfing^  Miss 
Agnes  a  glass  of  water,  when  he  slipped  it  into  my 
hand,  and  told  me  that  he  would  give  me  something 
nice  if  I  would  take  one  every  day." 

''And  you  told  him  you  would  do  it?  " 

"  I  thought  I  was  doing  a  favor ;  and  every  night  I 
went  round  the  corner,  and  sat  on  the  church  steps 
till  the  letter  came." 

"  You  grew  tired  of  this  ?  " 

"  No.  I  dreamed  one  night  that,  as  I  was  sitting 
on  the  steps,  a  great  black  figure  with  wings  came 
out  of  the  church,  and  was  about  to  carry  me  away, 
when  I  shrieked,  and  ran  toward  Mr.  Delafield,  who 
was  coming  up  the  street.  In  my  fright  I  gave  him 
the  letter;  and  when  he  read  it,  the  tears  rolled  down 
his  face,  and  he  was  as  white  as  he  could  be.  I  felt 
so  sorry  that  I  cried  too,  and  when  I  woke  up,  I  said 
I  would  n't  take  any  more  letters,  for  fear  there  was 
something  in  them  that  would  make  Mr.  Delafield 
feel  bad.  I  can't  forget  how  good  he  was  to  ni}^  poor 
mother,  and  when  she  died  he  said  that  I  should 
come  to  his  house.  I  'm  not  going  to  do  anything 
that  will  make  him  feel  bad." 

"  This  is  right,  Barbara.  I  am  glad  to  see  that  you 
are  grateful  to  Mr.  Delafield." 


Il6  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

"  What  am  I  to  say  when  they  ask  me  ?  "  asked 
Barbara. 

"  Tell  them  that  you  will  not  be  a  carrier;  that  you 
are  afraid  there  is  something  wrong  that  requires  so 
much  secrecy," 

Barbara  was  satisfied.  Like  others  in  the  house- 
hold, she  had  great  faith  in  Di.  With  her  conscience 
free,  she  went  singing  about  her  work,  her  heart 
lighter  than  it  had  been  for  many  a  day. 

Not  so  Daisy :  she  did  not  relish  the  part  she  had 
taken.  There  was  no  alternative.  To  allow  Agnes 
to  disobey  her  father  w^ould  only  be  to  render  herself 
an  accomplice.  To  betray  her  to  her  father  she 
could  not;  what  then?  Mr.  Delafield  had  said  that 
he  did  not  believe  Mr.  Stanton  to  be  what  he  pro- 
fessed to  be.  Months  ago  he  banished  him  from  his 
house,  and  commanded  Agnes  not  to  speak  with 
him  again.  Of  late  his  name  was  seldom  mentioned, 
and  when  it  was,  Agnes  had  seemed  indifferent.  Di 
herself  had  supposed  it  forgotten ;  and  the  truth  of 
the  affair  alarmed  her  only  the  more  she  thought  of 
it.  A«;ain  and  aa;ain  did  she  ask  herself  what  could 
be  done.  It  was  impossible  to  make  a  confidant  of 
Jay  or  Cyrus.  To  tell  Mrs.  Delafield  would  be 
equally  impracticable.  In  this  dilemma  a  quick 
thought  shot  through  her  brain  :  she  remembered  to 
have  heard  Mrs.  Clayton  allude  to  the  subject,  and 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  leave  no  doubt  in  her  own 
mind  that  there  had  been  something  of  an  acquaint- 
ance between  them.  She  would  go  at  once,  and  ask 
what  ground  there  was  for  prejudice? 


D  OWJ\/  WARD   AND    UPWARD.  11/ 

With  Daisy,  to  decide  to  do  anything  was  to  do 
it.  That  very  evening  she  made  her  way  to  Mrs. 
Clayton's.  Grant  could  walk  now,  and  his  studies 
were  progressing  rapidly.  Edna  was  likewise  at 
school,  and  the  heart  of  the  mother  was  full  of 
hope. 

"  By  what  happy  circumstance  am  I  favored  with  a 
visit  at  night  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Clayton,  as  she  wel- 
comed her  guest. 

"  Whether  happy  or  unhappy,  the  end  will  decide ; " 
and  Daisy  drew  her  chair  close  to  the  good  woman, 
and  told  her  story  without  a  pause. 

"The  miserable  man!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Clayton* 
while  an  expression  of  scorn  passed  over  her  usually 
calm  face.  "  This  is  not  the  only  city  in  which  he 
has  figured;  neither  is  Agnes  the  only  person  whom 
he  has  won  to  believe  him." 

"  I  may  trust  you  ?  "  asked  Daisy,  as  she  rose  to 
leave. 

*'  Have  no  fears,  child.  I  am  too  much  indebted 
to  Mr.  Delafield  to  hesitate  under  such  circum- 
stances." 


CHAPTER   XII 

COMING    EVENTS. 

ALONE  in  his  counting-room,  Mr.  Delafield  exam- 
ined the  bills  before  him.  As  a  man  in  a  small 
boat  nearing  the  rapids,  and  without  the  power  to 
save  himself,  casts  his  eyes  shoreward,  only  to  feel  his 
misery  more  keenly,  so  the  merchant  thought  of  the 
time  when  his  business  was  small  and  his  gains  less, 
of  the  content  and  happiness  of  his  home,  his  chil- 
dren giving  him  their  love  and  confidence.  Gener- 
ous by  nature,  and  delighted  to  see  them  happy,  he 
had  fostered  their  love  for  display;  and,  now  that 
they  were  drawing  so  heavily  upon  him,  he  saw 
plainly  the  danger,  the  terrible  gulf  into  which  he 
must  irrevocably  plunge.  Cold  drops  of  perspira- 
tion stood  upon  his  forehead,  and  his  frame  shook 
as  with  an  ague  fit.  Since  that  fearful  illness,  he  had 
not  fully  regained  his  strength,  and  the  doctor  had 
warned  him  repeatedly  not  to  give  way  to  excite- 
ment. 

There  had  been  quiet  days  of  convalescence,  when, 
shutting  his  eyes  to  business,  he  had  allowed  him- 
self to  be  diverted  with  Daisy's  recital  of  country  life  ; 
listening  to  Ellen  as  she  rehearsed  little  incidents 
of  the  farm,  the  visit  to  the  mill  and  the  blacksmith's 
shop,  standing  by  the  side  of  the  dun  cows  while 

ii8 


DO  IVNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  1 19 

Seth  drew  from  well-filled  udders  the  white  foaming 
milk.  Gone,  like  everything  else;  and,  throwing 
himself  back  in  his  chair,  he  shut  his  eyes  to  the 
papers,  and  tried  to  close  his  heart  to  care. 

Ellen  had  pointed  him  to  a  better  way.  He  was 
anxious  to  walk  in  it;  but  how?  As  a  vine  blown 
and  tossed  by  the  wind  flings  out  its  tendrils,  seeking 
support  and  finding  iione,  so  the  merchant  revolved 
in  his  own  mind  various  ways  and  means  whereby 
he  might  free  himself  from  entanglement.  Then  he 
would  have  time  to  think  of  and  to  decide  upon  a 
question  that  involved  so  much. 

"This  is  something  that  I  do  not  quite  understand," 
and  Paul  Browning,  Mr.  Delafield's  confidential 
clerk,  stood  before  him. 

"What  is  the  question?"  said  the  merchant,  with 
an  effort  to  rally  his  scattered  thoughts. 

"A  draft  with  your  name,  but  not  in  your  hand." 

"For  how  much?  " 

"  The  paper  will  explain." 

"  Is  it  possible  ?" 

Paul  Browning  shut  the  door.  For  months  had 
he  seen  the  father's  agony.  He  could  not  look  upon 
him  now.  Poor,  the  son  of  a  widow,  and  obliged  to 
labor,  there  was  little  in  common  between  him  and 
the  sons  of  the  rich  merchant.  Inexperienced  and 
friendless  when  he  came  to  the  city,  he  looked  up  to 
them  and  envied  them.  Not  for  wealth  merely,  but 
for  the  opportunities  they  enjoyed  for  mental  improve- 
ment. By  paying  due  attention  to  business,  he  had 
gained  the  confidence  of  his  employers,  and  his  sal- 
ary was  sufficient  to  make  his  mother  comfortable. 


120  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

Months  since,  he  learned  that  Jay  and  Cyrus  Dela- 
field  were  not  to  be  envied.  Pity  was  in  his  heart ; 
but  more  for  the  good-natured,  yielding  father,  whose 
generous  heart  had  prompted  him  to  gratify  every 
desire.  He  had  made  the  mistake  that  training  was 
unnecessary,  and  now  he  was  to  reap  of  the  seed  he 
planted  a  bitter  harvest.  The  young  and  tender  sap- 
ling is  bent  easily  ;  and  the  frfrit-tree  is  dwarfed  or 
erect  as  the  hand  of  the  gardener  trains  it.  Child- 
hood is  the  time  to  mould  and  form  character. 
Habits  strengthen,  and  principles  take  root  that  will 
bear  fruit  in  age, —  some  to  honor,  and  some  to  dis- 
honor. 

Lights  were  glancing  along  the  pavement  when 
Mr.  Delafield  reached  home.  Ellen  met  him  at  the 
door.  Music  sounded  down  the  hall,  and  fresh  young 
voices  told  of  happy  hearts.  The  trousseau  had 
just  arrived,  —  splendid  velvets,  and  silks,  and  light 
gossamer  fabrics, —  and  a  buzz  of  admiration  passed 
from  lip  to  lip. 

Sick  at  heart,  Mr.  Delafield  went  through  with  the 
accustomed  forms,  his  lips  wreathed  with  smiles,  as 
he  looked  upon  the  beaming  face  of  his  child.  How 
could  he  blight  her  happiness,  or  lay  a  feather's 
weight  on  her  young  heart?  All  was  joyous.  Only 
on  Daisy's  face  a  shadow  rested;  and  he  thought  of 
the  unselfish  care  she  had  given  him  in  his  illness. 
"  When  this  wedding  is  over,"  he  murmured  to  him- 
self Again  the  clouds  loomed  up  before  him.  He 
dared  not  think  of  it. 

'*  Has  my  little  girl  had  a  happy  day?"  and  Ellen 
sat  curled  up  on  her  father's  knee. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  121 

"Very  happy,  papa.  I  wish  so  much  that  you 
could  have  been  here.  Mr.  Lyndsey  called  here 
this  morning.  You  remember  what  Kate  said  about 
his  going  to  the  country?  It  seems  that  he  went  to 
Tipton.  Mrs.  White  is  his  aunt,  and  Seth  and 
Lydia  are  his  own  cousins.  He  says  Mrs.  White 
was  lonely  enough  after  we  left.  I  do  hope,  papa, 
some  way  will  open  that  we  can  all  go  to  Tipton 
next  summer." 

"  Would  you  like  to  spend  the  winters  there  ?  " 

"  Seth  said  the  winter  was  the  best  time,  with 
sleigh -rides,  and  singing- schools,  and  visits;  with 
mountains  of  snow  and  ice,  throwing  back  the  light 
like  huge  piles  of  crystal.     Di  would  like  it." 

"  Would  like  what  ?  "  and  Daisy  drew  near. 

"To  live  in  the  country." 

"  We  saw  the  country  in  a  favorable  light.  Mrs. 
White  knows  so  well  how  to  make  people  happy," 
replied  Di 

"  It  depends  a  good  deal  upon  the  acquaintance 
we  first  make,"  said  Mr.  Delafield.  "  I  presume  Dr. 
Landseer's  influence  had  much  to  do  with  your  hap- 
piness in  Tipton." 

"  Mr.  Lyndsey  says  that  Seth  bids  fair  to  make  a 
man  of  more  than  ordinary  ability.  He  is  studying 
hard,  and  at  work  likewise.  Every  moment  is  em- 
ployed," continued  Di. 

**  Mr.  Lyndsey  used  to  work  to  pay  his  board  when 
in  college,  and  now.  Dr.  Landseer  says,  he  is  one  of 
the  first  lawyers  in  the  city,"  Ellen  said  to  her  father- 

"  Dr.    Landseer !     No    wonder    you   have    had   a 


122  DO  WNWARD   A  ND    UP  WARD. 

happy  day,  two  such  calls  in  one  morning !  "  and 
Mr.  Delafield  tried  to  be  cheerful  and  happy. 

Daisy  talked  freely  of  her  summer  friends  ;  but 
she  did  not  say  that  Mr.  Lyndsey  had  brought  a 
letter  from  Mr.  Hawley,  asking,  as  an  especial  favor, 
that  she  would  send  him  the  small  suit  of  clothes 
she  held  in  her  possession ;  he  would  not  keep  them 
long.  He  had  written,  "  I  desire  to  know  what 
Mabel  will  think  of  them.  I  would  not  ask  it,  for  I 
know  how  highly  you  prize  them ;  but  she  asks  for 
you ;  and  if  I  tell  her  they  are  yours,  it  may  satisfy 
her." 

Going  to  her  room,  Daisy  unfolded  the  cherished 
dress,  the  sleeves  still  looped  with  coral.  "  I  will 
send  it  just  as  it  is,"  she  said,  and,  holding  it  up,  she 
could  not  keep  back  the  tears.  No  longer  the  little 
dress :  she  sees  a  child  tottering  over  the  floor  to 
meet  a  mother's  outstretched  hand.  She  hears  the 
tender,  loving  tone,  and  feels  the  pressure  of  a 
mother's  kiss.  Alas  !  it  is  all  a  delusion.  Memory 
has  nothing  of  this  to  bring  her,  and  fancy  cannot 
long  be  cheated.  Alone  in  a  great  city,  with  none  to 
love  or  to  care  for  her,  Mr.  Delafield  saw  her,  and 
his  heart  was  touched.  Generous  and  kind,  he  took 
her  to  his  home ;  and  if  trials  had  been  hers,  they 
had  not  been  of  a  nature  that  he  could  remove. 

Floating  up  and  along  the  halls  were  light  laughter 
and  happy  voices.  Daisy  wrapped  up  the  small  parcel, 
and,  writing  a  note,  once  more  stood  by  the  side  of 
Mr.  Delafield  and  Ellen.  With  an  effort,  the  merchant 
tried  to  rouse  himself     Why  anticipate  ?    Why  thus 


n  OWN  WARD   AND    UPWARD.  1 23 

torture  himself?  He  had  done  his  best,  and  if  he 
failed,  if  the  leap  must  be  made,  why  not  fold  his 
arms,  and  go  down  without  a  word  ?  It  was  too 
much  for  the  strong  nerves ;  and  when  Jay  and 
Cyrus  entered,  their  manner  gay  and  jubilant,  he 
trembled.  It  would  not  do  to  delay  —  he  must  speak 
with  Jay  that  very  night.  Nerving  himself,  he  put 
Ellen  from  him. 

"  My    little    girl   must   find   it   stupid   here,   when 
everybody  is  happy  in  the  parlor." 
"  I  will  go  down  with  you,  papa." 
**  Papa  is  not  well  to-night ;  and,  besides  —  " 
"  Papa !   O  papa !    what  is  it  ?  "  as  Ellen  saw  her 
father  turn  pale,  and  thrust  his  handkerchief  to  his 
mouth. 

"  Hush !  hush !  Ellen,"  as  Daisy  steadied  Mr. 
Delafield  to  the  sofa :  he  was  pale  and  helpless,  his 
handkerchief  saturated  with  blood.  "  A  little  salt 
and  water,"  Daisy  whispered  to  Ellen,  and  with 
noiseless  speed  she  flew  to  Dr.  Landseer. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

CHARACTERS.       " 

HERBERT  LYNDSEYand  Seth  White  were  not 
only  cousins,  but  cousins  between  whom  there 
was  an  uncommon  affinity.  Sought  after  and  admired 
as  was  the  young  lawyer,  he  did  not  look  down  upon 
his  poor  relation.  He  honored  his  aunt  as  a  woman 
of  sterling  principle  and  sound  sense.  The  son  of 
such  a  mother  was  not  one  of  whom  he  could,  under 
any  circumstances,  be  ashamed. 

Seth  White  had  been  the  guest  of  his  cousin  for 
several  days,  and  twice  had  he  called  on  the  Dela- 
fields.  Seth  had  never  been  in  the  city  before,  and 
his  quick  eye  was  ready  to  profit  by  all  that  he  saw 
and  heard.  In  visiting  places  of  interest,  he  was  not 
backward.  Study  had  made  him  familiar  with  the 
history  of  each  ;  but  in  the  parlor  he  was  conscious 
of  a  want  of  ease  and  ready  tact  that  only  comes 
by  contact  with  the  living,  moving  throng.  With 
Daisy  and  Ellen  there  was  no  reserve,  his  words 
running  out  in  the  same  lively,  piquant  manner  that 
had  won  them  in  Tipton ;  but  with  others  he  was 
shy  and  awkward. 

There  lacked  now  but  few  days  till  the  wedding. 

"How  long  does  your  friend  remain?"  Kate  asked 
of  Daisy,  as  her  visitor  left. 

124 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  I25 

"  I  have  not  asked  him,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"  I  do  not  see  any  particular  object  in  his  calling 
so  frequently.  If  he  should  stay  a  month,  I  will  not 
invite  him  to  the  wedding,"  said  Kate,  tartly. 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  about  that,  sister; 
he  goes  home  in  the  morning,"  and  Ellen's  cheeks 
flushed. 

"Dear  me!  Are  you  so  much  interested?  I 
thought  he  was  Di's  admirer,"  continued  Kate. 

"  I  do  not  know  that  he  is  an  admirer  of  either 
of  us,"  replied  Daisy,  with  a  little  warmth.  "I  only 
know  that  he  was  very  kind  to  us  during  the  sum- 
mer; and  it  would  be  shameful,  if  we  did  not  return 
it  when  he  comes  to  the  city." 

*'  Of  course;  it  is  very  natural  that  he  should  come 
to  the  city.  I  congratulate  you.  No  wonder  you 
were  so  much  pleased  with  the  country,"  and  Kate 
laughed  ironically. 

"  Seth  White  came  to  the  city  on  business.  He 
could  not  hasten  it,  much  as  he  desired  to.  In  the 
meantime  he  has  used  his  eyes  and  his  ears,  and 
he  will  go  back  with  more  advanced  ideas.  Your 
father  says  he  is  a  young  man  capable  of  improve- 
ment. If  so,  the  time  may  come  when  you  will  not 
look  down  upon  him,"  returned  Daisy,  proudly. 

"  Bravo ! "  and  Kate  clapped  her  small  hands. 
"The  time  may  come.  Who  knows?  perhaps  I  will 
have  the  pleasure  of  taking  a  glass  of  cream  from 
your  own  dairy  in  Tipton,"  and  Kate  bowed  herself 
out  of  the  room. 

Ellen  had  gone  with  the  first  rejoinder.     She  was 


126  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

not  proof  against  Kate's  bantering.  In  the  silence 
of  her  room,  she  gave  vent  to  her  grief  and  her 
vexation.  "  I  wonder  Kate  does  delight  to  tease  us 
so  about  the  country.  Seth  White  is  my  friend ;  and 
I  will  ask  papa  if  he  has  not  just  as  good  a  right  to 
come  here  as  anybody  else  has." 

Somebody  has  said  that  feelings  are  only  safety- 
valves.  It  certainly  is  a  great  relief  to  throw  off  the 
steam.  Ellen  found  it  so,  and,  running  down  to 
Daisy,  she  proposed  a  walk. 

"  Where  shall  we  go  ?  "  asked  Daisy. 

"  I  can't  think  of  anybody  that  I  would  rather  see 
than  Mrs.  Orcutt." 

"That  is  too  far  for  a  morning  call,"  replied  Daisy, 
with  a  smile. 

"  I  know ;  but  I  just  feel  like  hearing  her  talk," 
continued  Ellen. 

"  Mrs.  Harris  is  something  like  her  in  this  respect. 
It  is  a  good  while  since  we  were  there." 

"  Let  us  go,  Di.  Mamma  will  be  willing,"  said 
Ellen,  pleadingly. 

Mrs.  Harris  was  the  widow  of  a  seafaring  man ; 
a  quiet,  dignified  old  lady,  whose  love  for  Daisy  and 
Ellen  was  a  blessing  for  which  they  were  both  grate- 
ful. With  wealth  sufficient  to  gratify  every  desire, 
she  lived  to  do  good,  and  in  the  fulfilment  of  her 
benevolent  designs  she  realized  the  highest  happi- 
ness that  a  mortal  can  know. 

The  cool,  crisp  air  and  the  bright  sunshine  dissi- 
pated all  unpleasant  thoughts,  and  when  Ellen 
reached  the  house  of  Mrs.  Harris,  she  was  blithe 
and  gay  as  usual. 


DOWNWAI^D  AND    UPWARD.  I27 

"  It  is  good  3f  you  to  c^me  and  see  me  this 
morning,"  said  Mrs.  Harris,  tottering  across  the 
room.  "  Bright  as  it  is  outside,  this  is  one  of  my 
dark  days." 

*'  Why,  Mrs.  Harris,  I  had  no  idea  you  ever  had 
dark  days,"  exclaimed  Ellen. 

"  So  long  as  we  are  in  this  world,  child,  we  are 
subject  to  dark  days.  Were  it  not  so,  we  might 
want  to  live  here  always.  This  world  is  not  home ; 
it  is  only  a  workhouse,  and  the  body  droops  at 
times ;  then  we  have  to  stop  and  patch  up,  and  the 
work  is  delayed." 

**  I  see,  Mrs.  Harris,  that  you  have  been  ill,"  said 
Daisy,  in  a  voice  full  of  sympathy. 

''  And  my  work  has  had  to  stop.  I  was  wrong, 
however,  in  calling  the  day  dark;  it  is  our  consolation 
that,  in  whatever  state  we  may  be,  we  can,  through 
grace,  work  for  God.    Obedience  is  the  line  of  duty." 

"  If  we  could  be  assured  that  everything  comes 
from  God,"  said  Ellen. 

"  Do  you  doubt  this,  my  child  ?  "  asked  the  good 
woman. 

"  The  little  things  that  annoy  us  and  try  one's 
temper,"  Ellen  continued. 

**The  little  things  are  like  the  very  small  files  that 
the  artist  uses  to  perfect  his  work.  God  moulds 
and  fashions,  chips  and  polishes,  using  these  very 
little  things  to  do  it  with,"  returned  Mrs.  Harris. 

"  I  like  to  think  he  cares  for  little  things,"  said 
Daisy.  "  And  still,  like  Ellen,  there  are  times  when 
I  feel  not  perfectly  assured." 


I2«  DOIVNWARI)   AND    UPWARD. 

*'  These  are  the  dark  days,"  replied  Mrs.  Harris, 
with  a  smile.  *'  The  precious  grain,  which  the  hus- 
bandman cultivates  with  hope,  grows  in  the  night  as 
readily  as  in  the  day;  for  its  maturing,  the  dark  hours 
are  as  necessary  as  the  bright  ones.  Thus  God  gives 
us  dark  hours  in  the  spiritual  world  only  to  mature 
a  richer,  nobler  harvest  for  eternity." 

*'  I  see  now  why  you  called  them  dark  days,"  cried 
Ellen,  joyfully.  "  It  seemed  strange  to  think  of  dark 
days  with  you,  Mrs.  Harris." 

"  And,  still,  I  have  known  many  of  them." 

"  If  dark  days  bring  us  the  revivifying  influences 
of  the  night  to  the  natural  world,  they  are  not  lost  to 
us,"  and  a  new  light  gleamed  in  Daisy's  eyes. 

"That  is  it;  as  day  and  night  are  essential  to  growth 
in  the  natural  world,  so  in  the  Christian's  growth  he 
has  his  hours  of  light  and  shade.  It  is  in  this  way 
that  the  choicest  fruit  has  been  matured.  Health 
and  prosperity  have  their  seductive  influence,  and 
often  seriously  interfere  with  one's  spiritual  progress. 
In  this  case,  we  need  the  discipline  of  dark  hours  to 
counteract  the  world  and  ripen  fruit  for  heaven,"  said 
Mrs.  Harris,  in  a  calm,  firm  tone. 

"  Is  it  an  easy  lesson  for  us  to  learn  that  every- 
thing that  happens,  or  can  happen,  is  for  the  best?" 
asked  Daisy. 

"  We  learn  by  faith  that  the  way  of  the  Lord  with 
us  is  the  best  way.  Faith  is  not  a  spontaneous  growth ; 
we  must  cultivate  it,"  replied  Mrs.  Harris. 

"Should  dark  days  come,  I  shall  better  under- 
stand their  design,"  said  Ellen,  as  Daisy  rose  to  leave. 


D  O  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  IV A  R D.  1 29 

"  I  do  not  doubt  that  through  eternity  it  will  be 
one  source  of  happiness  to  review  the  way  in  which 
the  Lord  has  led  us,  —  a  way  which  now  we  do  not 
understand,  but  there  will  be  luminous.  Then  we 
shall  see  how  the  dark  hours  produced  bright  results 
not  only  in  ourselves,  but  in  others  around  us,"  said 
Mrs.  Harris,  as  she  saw  her  guests  to  the  door. 
-  "  Papa  has  dark  hours.  I  will  tell  him  what  Mrs. 
Harris  said,"  Ellen  remarked,  on  her  way  home. 

Daisy  did  not  reply;  she  was  thinking  of  the  dark 
hours  she  had  known.  She  knew  that  night  followed 
day  in  the  natural  world,  and  that  to  the  plants  the 
shadowing  cloud  was  as  needful  as  the  warmth  and 
light  of  the  sun.  She  had  not  thought  it  the  same 
in  the  spiritual  world.  Henceforth  the  dark  days 
would  have  a  new  interest  for  her. 

As  the  wedding-day  drew  near,  Mrs.  Clayton  was 
kept  apprised  of  all  that  was  taking  place  at  Mr. 
Delafield's ;  and  one  bright,  sunny  morning  the  little 
woman  found  it  necessary  to  visit  the  office  of  Dr. 
Landseer:  for  two  hours  there  was  a  deep  and  ear- 
nest conversation,  and  the  next  day  Mrs.  Clayton  and 
Grant  left  for  Baltimore.  When  they  returned  there 
was  a  stranger  with  them,  —  a  young,  fair  woman, 
dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and  apparently  in  feeble 
health.  Dr.  Landseer  called  daily.  In  mild  weather 
the  doctor  not  unfrequently  allowed  Grant  to  drive 
his  patient  through  the  town  in  his  own  comfortable 
carriage,  and  on  several  occasions  she  frequented  the 
places  of  amusement.  In  the  delicate  state  of  her 
health   she  was   obliged  to   protect   herself  with   a 

I 


130  DO  IVN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

heavy  veil.    The  air  was  too  bracing  for  weak  lungs, 
the  doctor  said. 

Bridal  festivities  left  no  time  for  sorrow.  In  look- 
ing upon  Kate's  happy  face,  Mrs.  Delafield  grew 
young  again,  and  Mr.  Delafield's  failing  health  was 
a  cover  for  any  uneasiness  that  he  might  feel.  Jay 
and  Cyrus  were  more  frequently  at  home,  and  Agnes 
from  being  all  tears  was  now  all  smiles  and  blushes. 
To  tell  the  truth,  there  was  a  corner  of  her  heart 
into  which  the  confidence  of  her  parents  did  not 
enter.  Forbidden  to  meet  one  to  whom  she  had 
pledged  herself  unwisely,  she  determined  to  fulfil  her 
promise  let  it  cost  what  it  would.  Thanks  to  little 
Barbara,  her  plans  were  not  too  deep  to  be  under- 
stood. There  were  those  to  whom  her  jubilant  man- 
ner was  no  cloak. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


FOILED. 


ALL  day  the  snow  had  been  coming  down,  and 
the  brown  earth  was  veiled  in  soft,  fleecy  white, 
—  a  fitting  drapery  for  a  bridal.  All  day  there  had 
been  stir  and  v^ommotion  in  Mr.  Delafield's  house, 
and  now  the  bridal  train  swept  down  the  broad  stair- 
case. A  temporary  altar  had  been  erected  in  the 
grand  saloon,  and  the  clergyman  stood  in  his  robes 
A  moment  they  kneeled  before  the  altar,  and  then 
arose  to  repeat  the  vows  that  were  to  unite  them 
in  the  sacred  union  of  husband  and  wife. 

The  words  were  spoken  and  the  prayer  said,  con- 
gratulations followed,  and  the  occasion  was  one  of 
joy.  A  proud  and  happy  mother,  Mrs.  Delafield 
performed  her  part  with  queenly  dignity ;  while  the 
pale  face  of  her  husband  was  tinged  with  a  flush  that 
spoke  of  pride  to  some,  of  pain  to  others.  Each 
made  a  mistake.  It  was  the  feeling  of  despair  creep- 
ing up  to  lips  and  brow,  and  still  not  master.  With 
a  deeply  sensitive  nature,  Mr.  Delafield  could  not 
yield  easily.  Strong  as  the  tide,  he  would  struggle 
against  it.  As  a  bird  caught  in  the  snare  of  the  fowl- 
er flutters  and  trembles,  its  feathers  torn  against  the 
cruel   bars,  and   drops    of  blood  trickling  from   its 


132  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

breast,  so  Mr.  Delafield  struf^f^led  against  the  bars 
that  he  could  not  wrench  asunder.  In  that  bright' 
throng  there  was  another  heart  still  more  painfully 
excited;  now  resolved  to  throw  it  all  aside  and  let 
the  occasion  pass  w^ithout  a  word  of  excuse  or  pallia- 
tion, the  next  urged  on  to  make  good  her  promise 
by  stealing,  like  a  felon,  from  a  father's  house  and  a 
father's  protecting  care. 

"  It  is  only  natural,"  Mrs.  Delafield  remarked,  as 
she  looked  at  Agnes's  flushed  cheeks,  and  noted  the 
wild,  troubled  light  in  her  eyes.  "  Kate  and  Agnes 
have  been  inseparable.  To  see  Kate  leave  is  almost 
too  much  for  the  dear  child.  We  must  do  all  we  can 
to  comfort  her." 

Well  for  the  mother  that  she  did  not  see  the  fear- 
ful struggle ;  did  not  know  the  thoughts  that  came 
and  went  like  the  waves  of  a  troubled  sea.  Weeks 
ago  Agnes  had  decided  the  question  ;  she  had  re- 
solved to  obey  the  dictates  of  her  own  heart. 
Others  had  done  so,  and  been  happy.  Doubtless 
her  parents  would  feel  badly.  A  few  years  abroad 
and  then  to  return.  Of  course  they  would  forgive 
her,  and  the  love  of  her  husband  would  make  ample 
amends  for  the  sacrifice.  Wild  and  gay,  then  sad 
and  pensive,  Agnes  did  not  imagine  there  was  one 
that  held  the  key. 

In  and  out  Daisy  floated ;  her  words  gentle  and 
kind,  and  her  hands  helpful.  Ellen  was  sweet  and 
cheerful,  and  Dr.  Landseer  everywhere.  Little 
Barbara  was  on  the  alert ;  and  as  Grant  Clayton  stood 
at  the  side  door  with  a  veiled  lady  on  his  arm,  ^he 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  I33 

whispered  to  Daisy.  Grant  went  down  the  walk, 
and  the  lady,  clinging  to  Daisy's  arm,  wound  up  the 
back  staircase. 

"  Martin,"  and  Daisy  tapped  lightly  at  the  house- 
keeper's door,  "  I  have  brought  a  lady  to  rest  her- 
self in  your  room  for  a  little.  She  is  an  invalid ; 
please  give  her  some  refreshment." 

"  I  will  be  back  in  time,"  said  Daisy,  bending  her 
lips  to  the  lady's  ear,  and  pressing  the  thin  hand 
again.  In  a  moment  Daisy  was  standing  in  the 
drawing-room,  her  absence  unnoticed  by  any  of  the 
guests. 

"One  of  your  smiles,  if  you  please,"  and  Dr. 
Landseer  stood  by  the  side  of  Agnes. 

*' Dr.  Landseer  seems  to  understand  the  art  of 
winning  them,"  returned  Agnes,  with  an  attempt  at 
playfulness. 

**  Tendered  me  as  charity,  perhaps,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Judging  others  by  yourself?" 

"  Not  at  all,  Miss  Agnes.  To  a  man  flung  around 
as  I  am,  the  smile  of  a  bright  healthy  face  is  like 
the  rich  wine  of  life.  Under  its  influence  I  grow 
young  again ;  forgetful  that  there  is  sickness  and 
sorrow  in  the  world  for  me  to  heal  or  alleviate." 

"  With  the  power  to  do  this,  you  are  a  happy  man, 
Dr.  Landseer,"  said  Agnes,  seriously. 

"  The  happiness  of  alleviating  is  balanced  by  the 
long  train  of  ills  with  which  I  must  first  become 
conversant,"  continued  Dr.  Landseer. 

"It  is  a  pity  that  a  world  so  beautiful  should  be 
the  ^ode  of  so  much  sorrow." 


134  DO  WAYWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

"  If  the  people  in  it  were  only  as  good  as  they  are 
beau':'ful,  there  would  be  far  less  of  suffering,  Miss 
Agnes." 

"There  are  circumstances  in  which  it  is  difficult 
to  be  good,  I  imagine,"  said  Agnes,  musingly. 

*'  There  is  no  circumstance  under  which  we  may 
not  do  right,"  returned  the  doctor. 

"  To  do  right !  "  exclaimed  Agnes.  And  the  color 
left  lips  and  brow. 

"  The  heat  of  the  room  is  oppressive.  Let  me 
lead  you  to  a  seat,"  and  the  doctor  gave  his  arm. 

"  I  do  not  often  tempt  one,  but,  on  this  occasion, 
let  me  bring  you  a  glass  of  wine,"  said  the  doctor^ 
as  he  seated  Agnes  near  the  window. 

"  Thank  you :  this  has  been  an  exciting  evening," 
and  Agnes  tried  to  rally. 

Daisy  flashed  through  the  room,  laughing  and 
shaking  her  finger  at  the  doctor. 

"  A  quiet  little  puss  ;  and  still  she  seems  to  be  full 
of  wit  and  humor,"  the  doctor  said  to  Agnes. 

**  Di  is  one  of  the  good  ones ;  it  comes  natural  for 
her  to  do  right,"  was  Agnes's  reply. 

Dr.  Landseer  had  not  expected  such  commenda- 
tion. Was  it  battling  with  herself  that  she  was  thus 
led  to  do  Daisy  justice  ? 

"  To  do  right  is  not  a  natural  inheritance.  It  is 
only  won  by  repeated  striving,"  returned  Dr.  Land- 
seer. 

"  Unreasonable ;  to  appropriate  a  young  lady  to 
yourself,  while  I  have  been  left  to  wander  up-stair? 
and  down-stairs,"  said  Mr.  Lyndsey,  with  a  low  bow. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  I35 

"  I  see  the  throng  is  passing  into  the  refreshment- 
room.  As  the  doctor  is  so  thoughtless,  allow  me, 
Miss  Agnes." 

"  If  you  please.  I  was  about  to  withdraw  to  my 
room  for  a  few  moments,"  and  a  sickly  smile  hovered 
around  the  pale  lips. 

A  telegraphic  look  shot  out  of  Dr.  Landseer's 
eyes. 

"I  have  counted  upon  this  privilege;"  and  the 
young  lawyer  was  not  to  be  put  aside. 

"  If  Dr.  Landseer  will  excuse  me  ? "  and  Agnes 
took  the  proffered  arm. 

"  Velvets,  and  diamonds,  and  feathers,  and  laces. 
What  a  dazzling  array!"  and  the  lawyer  ran  out  the 
length  of  small  talk  at  his  command. 

Dr.  Landseer  slipped  into  the  dressing-room,  put 
on  his  overcoat,  and  went  out. 

"  In  Martin's  room,"  was  said  in  a  low  voice,  as  he 
passed  Daisy  in  the  hall! 

"  You  find  it  a  trial  to  part  with  your  sister,"  said 
Mr.  Lyndsey,  as  he  helped  Agnes  to  an  ice. 

"  I  had  no  idea  it  would  tax  me  so  heavily,"  and 
Agnes's  eyes  were  full  of  tears. 

Softening  his  tone,  Mr.  Lyndsey  endeavored  to 
win  her  thoughts  away  from-  herself  A  few  moments, 
and  she  had  recovered  sufficiently  to  converse  with 
ease,  returning  compliments  and  speaking  gayly  to 
her  friends.  This  was  what  he  desired,  and  following 
it  up,  Mr.  Lyndsey  so  arranged  it  as  to  be  among  the 
kist  to  leave  the  supper-room. 

The  bride  was  not  to  take  a  formal  leave  of  her 


136  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

friends  until  the  next  day.     A  carriage  was  in  wait- 
ing to  convey  her  to  her  hotel. 

"  I  must  speak  a  word  to  my  sister,"  Agnes  said, 
as  they  walked  through  the  hall.  **  And  I  am  so 
weary,  you  will  excuse  me  if  I  do  not  return." 

At  the  dressing-room  door  Mr.  Lyndsey  met  Bar- 
bara. "  It  is  all  arranged,"  he  whispered,  in  passing ; 
and  there  was  a  look  of  satisfaction  on  her  face  as 
the  little  waiting-girl  carried  the  words  to  Daisy's 
ear. 

"  Di,  a  moment,  if  you  please,"  and  there  was  ten- 
derness in  Agnes's  voice. 

"  I  feel  sadly  to  see  Kate  go.  And  I  am  so  tired ; 
suppose  I  do  not  come  down  again." 

"  You  need  rest.  I  will  tell  your  mother  that  you 
are  tired,  ill,"  returned  Di. 

"A  little  rest  is  all  I  need,"  and  Agnes  tried  to 
stop  her  tears. 

"  Can  I  bring  you  anything  for  your  comfort  ? " 
asked  Di. 

"  Only  say  that  I  would  not  be  disturbed;  my  head 
aches  wildly,"  answered  Agnes. 
"Nothing  more?" 

"  Nothing  more  "  was  echoed,  and  so  low  that  it 
was  hardly  audible. 

The  door  was  locked ;  but  on  the  outside,  Daisy 
had  also  secured  a  small  door  leading  to  the  rear  of 
the  building.  This  done,  Agnes's  last  request  was 
kept  to  the  letter ;  she  was  not  disturbed. 

The  bridal  throng  had  passed;  one  carriage  alone 
remained.     A  trunk  was  strapped  to  the  rack  ;  and  a 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  1 37 

man  stood  by  the  step,  muffled  and  cloaked  as  for  a 
journey.  Not  long  he  waited.  Down  the  same 
stairs  and  by  the  door  she  entered,  the  veiled 
stranger  tottered  to  the  carriage.  Lifting  her  in,  the 
man  entered. 

"All  right  ?  "  exclaimed  the  traveller. 

"  All  right,"  was  the  answer,  and  Dr.  Landseer 
mounted  to  the  box.  "  All  right,"  he  muttered  to 
himself  "  If  I  choose  to  drive  Horace  Stanton  and 
his  wife  to  the  steamer,  whose  business  is  it  ?  Thanks 
to  little  Barbara,  it's  not  Agnes  Delafield." 


.«• 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SEARCHING    OUT. 

BEYOND  Mn  Delafield's  most  sanguine  hope  the 
winter  was  passing;  perhaps  he  would  yet 
weather  the  storm.  As  a  strong  swimmer  uncon- 
sciously puts  out  all  his  force  swinging  out  of  the 
current,  and  hoping  still  to  reach  land,  so  with  the 
merchant:  could  he  hold  out  a  little  longer,  all  would 
be  well. 

Mr.  Flashman  was  to  make  his  home  in  Montreal, 
and  thither  he  had  borne  his  bride.  Agnes  was  con- 
fined bv  illness  to  her  room  for  a  month,  during 
which  time  she  had  full  opportunity  to  learn  from  Dr. 
Landseer  the  particulars  of  his  ride  to  the  steamer ; 
also  of  the  terrible  gulf  into  which  she  was  about  to 
plunge.  Shocked  and  truly  humbled,  the  poor  girl 
wept  as  the  doctor  recounted  the  sacrifice,  and  the 
suffering  Daisy  had  endured,  and  gradually  her  better 
nature  blossomed  out  into  a  gentler  manner.  None 
knew  her  secret,  save  the  few  with  whom  it  would 
be  safe,  and  when  strength  returned  she  accepted  an 
invitation  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Flashman  to  travel  with 
them  during  the  summer.  Released  from  chaperoning 
her  handsome  daughters,  Mrs.  Delafield  was  more 
at  home ;  Ellen  received  more  of  her  attention,  and 
Daisy  found  a  warmer  place  in  her  heart. 

I -.8 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  I39 

"  It  will  not  do  for  us  to  stay  at  home  altogether," 
said  Mrs.  Delafield;  and  by  degrees  Daisy  and  Ellen 
grew  to  wear  the  easy  grace  of  those  accustomed  to 
social  life.  The  rich  gift  of  music  was  cultivated 
more  to  give  pleasure  than  to  create  display.  Mr. 
Delafield  delighted  in  home  songs,  and  in  his  youth 
was  no  mean  performer  on  the  flute.  Daisy  endeav- 
ored to  win  Jay  to  attempt  it.  "  No  time,"  he  said, 
and  Cyrus  had  less.  Thus  was  she  doomed  to  see 
them  go  out  night  after  night,  notwithstanding  the 
combined  effort  to  make  home  as  attractive  as  possi- 
ble. 

"  Mrs.  Harris  says  we  must  be  patient,  and  keep 
trying,"  said  Ellen,  as  she  threw  herself  into  Daisy's 
arms,  and  sobbed  out  her  grief. 

*'  It  makes  papa  feel  so  badly,"  she  continued. 

"  The  time  may  come  when  Jay  will  see  differently. 
In  the  meantime  we  must  do  what  we  can  to  help 
him,"  answered  Di,  and  the  two  planned  and  sug- 
gested amusements  and  diversions  to  make  their  own 
house  as  attractive  as  could  be  found  elsewhere.  Mr. 
Lyndsey  called  occasionally,  but  his  conversation 
was  mostly  with  Mr.  Delafield :  sometimes  with  a 
book  for  Ellen,  or  a  song  for  Daisy,  —  this  was  all. 

Since  Seth  White's  visit,  and  Mr.  Hawley  had  the 
little  dress  in  his  keeping,  there  had  been  a  regular 
correspondence  ;  letters  directed  sometimes  to  Daisy, 
more  frequently  to  Mr.  Parton,  keeping  up  a  connec- 
tion between  the  two  families,  and  comforting  Daisy 
by  holding  in  check  whatever  restlessness  and 
anxiety  there  might  otherwise  have  been.     Human 


140  DOIVNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

nature  is  everywhere  the  same,  and  human  hearts  are 
more  or  less  dependent  upon  love  and  sympathy. 
A  word  has  power  to  flood  the  soul  with  rapture, 
brightening  life's  way  by  its  faithful  promise  ;  or, 
sweeping  across  the  spirit  like  a  raging  fire,  blighting 
and  rendering  all  a  waste. 

Mr.  Hawley's  words  were  not  of  this  kind. 
Preaching,  with  him,  was  not  a  profession ;  it  was  his 
life,  the  very  air  he  breathed.  A  plain,  frank  soul, 
his  manhood  gloried  in  doing  good.  Mr.  Parton 
was  of  the  same  spirit,  and  by  degrees  Mr.  Delafield 
learned  to  look  upon  him  as  a  friend,  in  whose  con- 
versation there  was  strength  and  hope.  Going  back 
to  the  days  of  convalescence,  he  picked  up  the  thread 
broken  as  the  tide  rolled  in  from  the  sea,  and,  string- 
ing it  anew  with  pearls  of  thought,  studied  it  with 
more  care  than  he  did  at  first. 

"  If  I  could  be  sure  that  in  searching  after  truth,  I 
apprehend  it  aright,"  said  Mr.  Delafield  to  the  pastor. 
**  Those  who  love  most,  worship  most  worthily." 

"  For  His  sake  to  love  and  worship,  or  for  our 
own  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Parton. 

"  There  is  more  or  less  of  selfishness  in  love. 
Whoever  loves,  derives  pleasure  from  the  object  of 
his  love;  and  though  he  rob  himself  of  all  to  lay 
upon  the  altar,  he  still  realizes  happiness  that  holds 
for  him  more  of  heaven  than  of  earth,"  was  Mr. 
Delafield's  reply. 

"  Such  love  lifts  upward,  and  the  selfishness  of 
which  you  speak,  etherealized  to  a  thin  white  mist, 


D  O  WNWA  RD  A  ND    UP  VVA  K D.  I4I 

tones  the  act,  as  colors  blend  in  harmonious  forms 
and  please  unconsciously,"  said  Mr.  Parton. 

"  If  God  is  love,  then  all  we  need  is  to  drink  in  as 
much  of  the  divine  element  as  we  can  hold.  No 
human  being  ever  loved  too  much,"  continued  Mr. 
Delafield. 

"  No  human  being  ever  loved  enough,  unless  he 
love  the  one  of  all  others  most  worthy  to  be  loved." 

"  You  mean  the  Son  of  God  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Delafield. 

"  The  only  record  of  love  that  knew  no  guile,"  re- 
plied the  pastor. 

"  I  have  thought  of  it  not  a  little  since  I  was  ill. 
And  while  I  would  love  him,  I  know  not  that  I  do," 
continued  Mr.  Delafield. 

"  Then  you  may  safely  count  that  you  do  not. 
Where  the  heart  has  need  to  question,  there  is  little 
love,"  answered  the  pastor. 

"  To  love  without  a  thought  of  self,  I  mean ; 
hoping  thereby  to  escape  hell,  or  to  enter  heaven," 
added  Mr.  Delafield. 

''This  is  not  Christian  love.  We  love  him  because 
he  first  loved  us ;  and  then  it  follows  that  we  long 
to  be  with  him  we  love.  It  matters  not  where  or 
by  what  name  it's  called.  Hell  would  be  heaven,  if 
God  was  there,"  said  Mr.  Parton. 

"  It  seems  to  me  we  tread  the  paths  much  in  the 
same  way.  I  begin  with  the  things  of  sight,  through 
the  created  up  to  him  who  formed  and  holds  them 
in  their  places.  You,  going  to  the  fountain-head, 
love  the  Creator,  and,  for  his  sake,  the  creatures  that 
he  made."  continued  Mr.  Delafield. 


142  D  O  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R D. 

"The  first  and  best;  the  only  offering  that  he 
will  accept.  He,  a  king's  son,  gave  up  his  life  to 
ransom  man.  Can  we  do  less  than  give  him  all  we 
have  ?  And  this  a  gift  too  small  to  satisfy  the 
heart  that  truly  loves  him,"  said  Mr.  Parton,  with 
warmth. 

"What  weighty  question  is  on  the  carpet?"  said 
Dr.  Landseer,  as  he  drew  his  chair  to  Daisy's  side, 
and  looked  across  the  table  with  an  eye  flashing 
with  light. 

"  Talking  of  love,"  whispered  Daisy,  with  a  smile. 

"  A  subject  in  which  we  are  all  interested ;  please 
go  on,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Mr.  Delafield  claims  that  in  all  love  there  is  a 
portion  of  selfishness,"  Mr.  Parton  replied. 

"  To  love  is  to  assimilate  in  some  weak  form  to 
what  we  love.  In  loving  God,  we  aim  to  be  like 
him;  rubbing  down  our  prejudices,  enlarging  our 
charities,  standing  on  the  broad  platform  of  loyp  to 
all,"  returned  the  doctor. 

"Is  this  love  natural  to  the  human  heart?"  asked 
Mr.  Parton. 

"  The  natural  heart  loves  only  what  pleases  taste  : 
beauty  of  form,  a  lovely  face,  and  a  well  shaped  hand 
win  stores  of  love.  The  love  of  God  covers  all : 
the  deformed  lacketh  nothing  in  his  sight ;  the  poor 
disgraced  outcast  has  a  right  to  say  *  Our  Father;' 
and  for  him,  if  so  he  choose,  a  spotless  robe,  a  harp, 
and  crown  of  gold,"  the  doctor  replied. 

"This  is  the  love  I  want,"  said  Mr.  Delafield,  while 
a  crimson  stain  was  on  his  cheek.     "A  good,  true, 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  I43 

honest  love ;  loving  God  first,  loving  him  most  of 
all,  and,  for  his  sake,  all  else  beneath  the  sun." 

"  If  you  want  this  love,  it  may  be  yours,"  said  the 
pastor. 

"  How  so  i  "  asked  Mr.  Delafield. 

"  Ask,  and  ye  shall  receive." 

*'  And  if  I  ask  amiss  ?  " 

''The  earnest  soul  asks  earnestly.  The  child  is 
not  loved  less  for  speaking  out  his  wants  ;  he  does 
it  frarikly,  closing  with  '  if  you  please,'  A  child's 
privilege  is  ours,  and  there  are  no  mistakes  with 
God,"  said  the  pastor. 

There  was  a  pause,  in  which  the  thoughts  of  each 
played  the  same  tune  to  a  different  key  —  the  love 
of  God  to  man,  and  man's  love  to  God ;  the  little 
given,  and  that  grudgingly. 

"  We  've  not  had  Daisy's  thought,"  said  Mr.  Par- 
ton,  as  he  rose  to  leave.  "  I  half  suspect  she  'd  make 
it  plain  without  the  formula  of  many  words,  or  Ellen 
here.  Hearts  full  of  love  and  running  over,  spill  the 
glittering  drops  in  dark  alleys  and  pent-up  rooms, 
where  suffering  hearts  are  found." 

"  Love  that  does  not  prompt  to  this  is  counterfeit," 
Daisy  replied,  while  her  cheek  took  a  richer  hue. 

"  Doctors  have  need  of  large  and  frequent  supply. 
I  sometimes  fear  the  love  I  have  is  some  adulterated 
thing, —  lukewarm,  and  fit  only  to  be  cast  a^lae,"  said 
Dr.  Landseer,  as  he  took  his  hat. 

'*  Privileged  to  go  to  the  fountain,  the  fault  is  ours 
if  we  fail  to  drink  a  draught  sufficient  for  our  need," 
said  Mr.  Parton,  as  he  stood  by  the  side  of  Daisy's 


144  DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD. 

chair.  Layincr  his  hand  upon  her  head,  he  added  : 
"  A  letter  from  Mr.  Hawley.  I  was  too  selfish  to 
allow  you  to  read  while  I  was  here." 

The  embers  in  the  grate  were  dying  out,  with  here 
and  there  a  ruddy  gleam  to  break  the  pale,  thin  film 
tinging  Daisy's  cheeks,  and  lighting  up  the  corners 
of  the  room.  Sitting  in  her  chair,  with  the  letter 
crumpled  in  her  dimpled  hand,  strange  thoughts 
floated  through  her  brain.  The  small  dress  she 
had  guarded  so  closely,  and  over  which  her  tears 
had  fallen,  was  an  object  of  interest  to  others.  Each 
tiny  fold  was  sacred  in  her  eyes,  because  she  fancied 
a  mother's  hand  placed  it  there,  thrusting  her  needle 
in,  and  holding  it  up  to  see  how  it  would  fall.  A 
smile  upon  the  full,  round  lip,  as  she  thought  of  the 
baby's  glee,  throwing  back  her  dainty  head,  and  toss- 
ing the  flaxen  curls.  Her  lips  two  rose  leaves  cleft 
with  pearls ;  the  music  of  her  little  gurgling  laugh 
thrilling  the  mother's  heart,  and  her  sweet  lisp,  **  'T  is 
pretty,  mamma,"  making  of  earth  a  heaven.  Then 
all  was  changed;  sunshine  had  faded  from  her  sky; 
no  light,  no  voice,  no  little  clinging  arms.  Was  it 
strange  that  reason  had  fled  ?  And  still  the  heart 
is  haunted  by  the  memory  of  what  has  been. 

*'She  seldom  weeps,"  Mr.  Hawley  wrote.  "To 
please  her,  we  dressed  a  doll  in  the  small  dress  you 
sent.  For  hours  she  sits  and  rocks  the  child,  brush- 
ing the  soft,  brown  hair,  talking  in  low,  soothing 
tones,  with  '  Hush  !  she  sleeps  ! '  if  a  step  is  heard." 

"It  gives  her  comfort,  and  I"  —  and  Daisy  crossed 
the  room.     For  a  moment  she  stood  irresolute,  then 


D  0  WN  WARD  A  ND    UP  WA  R  D.  I45 

Opening  a  drawer,  drew  forth  a  tiny  pair  of  half-worn 
shoes. 

*'I']1  send  her  these,  I  think,  and  this,"  lifting  a 
handkerchief  of  finest  linen,  with  a  vine  embroidered 
within  the  hem,  and  something  like  a  shield  in  the 
two  corners.  *'  It  only  makes  me  weep  to  look  at 
them,  and  keeps  my  heart  full  of  gloom,  when  bright 
and  gay  I  ought  to  be  for  all  He  's  done  for  me." 

A  light  shot  upward  from  the  last  spent  coal,  ting- 
ing the  hangings  with  a  crimson  hue,  and  falling  like 
a  veil  over  the  faded  bronze  of  the  tiny  shoes  ;  the 
blue  rosette  was  sparkling  with  a  tear  half  caught  by 
Daisy's  hand. 

"  It  is  all  wrong.  It  might  have  been ;  it  would 
have  been,  had  He  seen  best.  Just  as  it  is  He  willed, 
and  I  should  be  content.  But  this  poor  woman  ;  in 
thinking  of  myself,  I  have  forgotten  her.  I  '11  pack 
the  shoes,  and  write  a  little  note,  and  then  my  heart 
will  lighten  of  itself" 

Kissing  the  handkerchief  for  the  twentieth  time, 
she  had  it  safely  folded  and  packed,  and,  taking  up  a 
pen,  traced  the  name  duly,  then  sealed  the  note, 
and  kneeling  bowed  her  head.  There  was  no  spoken 
word  ;  but  silently  she  invoked  a  blessing  on  the  gift, 
a  ray  of  healing  for  that  smitten  heart. 

The  shifting  light  was  gone.  A  settled  calm  took 
possession  of  the  heart,  crying  out  as  it  had  done  for 
something  unattained.  Crossing  her  arms,  her  head 
fell  forward,  and  Daisy  saw  or  seemed  to  see  the  long 
and  tangled  track,  the  cares  and  trials  'incident  to  one 
who  held  the  place,  as  Kate  had  called  it,   "neither 


146  DOWAnVARB  AND    UPWARD. 

the  one  nor  the  other."  Early  had  she  learned  to  be 
self-reliant,  doing  for  herself,  and  serving  with  un- 
tiring hand,  and  still  not  proof  against  passionate 
thoughts  and  speech  when  taunted,  and  held  up  to 
ridicule.  In  such  times  Ja/  had  always  come  to  her 
rescue,  soothing  her  self-respect,  and  taming  down 
the  mounting  passion.  A  good,  kind  heart;  but 
crusted  with  the  show  of  wealth,  failing  to  measure 
manly  height  by  principle  and  mental  worth,  not  by 
the  length  of  purse. 

Through  all  the  years  his  kindness  had  been  the 
same,  and  she  had  thanked  him  for  it.  Noiselessly 
the  shadows  danced  across  the  wall,  her  head  fell 
lower.  What  could  she  do  for  him  ?  Did  she  dream, 
or  was  it  the  tinkling  of  the  door-bell  ?  Again  it 
broke  upon  her  ear,  sharp  and  distinct.  She  paused 
a  moment,  and  then  slid  down  the  stairs.  What  a 
sight  met  her  eye  as  she  opened  the  street  door  !  Jay 
supported  by  two  men,  his  hat  thrown  aside,  and  the 
blood  trickling  over  his  white  forehead.  "  What  is 
the  matter?  What  has  happened?"  Daisy  exclaimed, 
as  they  led  him  in  and  placed  him  on  the  sofa. 

"We  have  been  to  supper,"  said  Cyrus,  as  he  came 
up  a  moment  later.  "  After  the  cloth  was  removed 
we  had  wine  and  toasts.  Jay  was  excited ;  there  was 
a  general  smash  up  ;  and,  in  the  fray,  a  piece  of 
glass  struck  him  in  the  forehead.  It  is  n't  much. 
Don't  waken  up  the  house." 

Daisy  saw  it  all.  Going  to  Martin's  room,  she 
roused  the  good  housekeeper,  and  together  they 
dressed   Jay's   wound,  and    made    him   comfortable. 


D  O  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  RD.  T47 

Cyrus,  in  the  meantime,  was  talking  volubly,  expos- 
ing more  of  his  life  than  he  would  have  willingly 
done  at  any  other  time. 

"  We  promised  father  that  we  would  not  go ;  but 
Grier  and  Collingwood  came  round,  and  there  was 
no  refusing." 

*'  Had  vou  only  come  directly  home,"  Daisy  said, 
seeing  trmt  Cyrus  expected  something  in  reply. 

'*  We  have  always  been  with  that  set ;  and  now  to 
shut  down,  as  father  wants,  is  more  than  we  can  do," 
continued  Cyrus. 

"  If  you  could  only  realize  how  badly  it  makes 
him  feel ;  and  he  is  not  strong  this  winter.  You 
should  think  of  that,"  said  Daisy. 

"  I  know ;  and  I  don't  like  it  more  than  you  do. 
To  tell  the  truth.  Jay  and  I  are  going  it  too  strong. 
But  Jay  can't  bear  to  lag  behind,  and  I  'm  bound  to 
do  pretty  near  as  he  does.  We  do  spend  too  much, 
and  I  know  it,"  added  Cyrus. 

"  Is  the  bill  yours  to-night  ?  "  asked  Daisy. 

"  For  what  we  broke,  of  course." 

"  You  won't  be  any  happier  to-morrow,"  was  said, 
gently. 

"  Plague  take  it !  If  we  could  only  think  of  this," 
exclaimed  Cyrus,  with  a  muttered  curse. 

"  Try  it,  Cyrus.     Let  this  be  your  last  time." 

"  I  hope  it  is.  Can't  say  though,"  was  the  careless 
reply. 

"  If  anything  should  happen  to  your  father. 
His  health  is  miserable,  and  his  business  troubles 
him,"  said  Daisy,  with  feeling. 


148  DO  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  JVA  R  D. 

"  Why,  in  that  case,  we  should  have  to  do  tor  our- 
selves," and  Cyrus  made  an  attempt  to  laugh. 

"Can't  you  do  that  now,  Cyrus,  and  keep,  what 
you  have?"  plead  Daisy. 

*'  I  've  been  trying  ever  since  Kate  left.  Have  n't 
you  seen  how  steady  I  've  been  ?  " 

**  I  have  seen  with  pleasure  that  you  are  more 
frequently  at  home ;  and  I  had  hoped  Jay  was 
viewing  things  differently,"  continued  Daisy. 

**  We'll  learn  by  degrees.  Don't  feel  badly.  Every- 
body has  to  sow  their  wild  oats.  Mine  are  almost 
gone.     I  'm  going  to  settle  down  after  a  little." 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  too  late.  Look  at  Jay,  and 
promise  that  you  will  not  do  it  again,"  said  Daisy, 
with  a  voice  full  of  entreaty. 

"If  I  promise,  I  shall  break  it;  and,  still,  I  don't 
mean  to.  It  does  seem  as  though  the  evil  one  gets 
into  us  at  times.  Try  as  hard  as  I  will,  I  can't  do 
differently,"  said  Cyrus,  as  he  reeled  to  the  door. 

"Is  n't  it  fearful,  this  thirst  for  drink  ?  "  Daisy  said 
to  Martin,  as  Cyrus  sought  his  chamber.  "  What 
would  I  not  give  to  save  him  from  this  terrible 
curse ! "  and  the  poor  child  threw  herself  on  her 
knees,  and  hid  her  face  in  Martin's  lap. 

"There  is  but  One  that  can  help  him,  child.  You 
can  ask  Him,"  answered  Martin. 

"I  know;  and  I  have  not  failed  to  ask  with  all  the 
earnestness  I  have.  All  winter  I  have  hoped,  and 
now  —  "  and  Di's  words  were  lost. 

"  Do  not  distrust  His  goodness,  and  His  ability  to 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  I49 

save.  It  is  for  us  to  ask,  to  importune,"  continued 
Martin. 

"  But  when  we  see  everything  going  wrong,  it  is  so 
hard,"  murmured  Daisy. 

"  In  all  our  troubles,  and  with  all  our  complaints, 
we  are  to  go  to  Him.  Tangled  paths  He  can 
straighten.  He  sees  from  the  beginning,  and  He 
knows  the  end,"  said  Martin,  as  she  caressed  the 
bowed  head. 

A  groan  from  Jay  startled  them. 

**  I  fear  this  wound  in  the  forehead  is  more  than 
we  at  first  thought  it ;  and  he  seems  to  have  a  high 
fever;"  and  Martin  bent  over  the  couch,  and  laid 
her  fingers  on  the  throbbing  temple. 

"  Would  it  be  well  for  Dr.  Landseer  to  see  him  ?  " 
asked  Daisy. 

"  I  don't  feel  quite  satisfied  without  him ;  and, 
still,  it  is  so  very  late,"  replied  Martin. 

"  If  you  think  best,  I  will  go  for  him,"  Daisy  said, 
in  a  more  cheerful  tone. 

**  I  shall  not  a,llow  you  to  go  out  to-night.  If 
either  of  us,  I  will  go,"  returned  Martin. 

An  hour  passed.  The  blood  was  still  trickling 
from  the  feverish  wound. 

"  If  you  are  not  afraid  to  stay  by  yourself,  I  will 
go,"  said  Martin. 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  was  the  firm  response. 

Low,  incoherent  words  broke  from  the  parched 
lips,  followed  by  jeering  laughter.  Were  there 
fiends  in  the  room  ?  Jay  thought  so,  and,  sitting 
up  in  bed,  his  eyes  glared  wildly.     Laying  her  hand 


150  DOWAnVAJ^D  AND    UPWARD. 

gently  on  his  arm,  Daisy  soothed  him,  talking  in 
low  tones,  and  passing  her  cool  fingers  over  his  burn- 
ing forehead.  Shrinking,  trembling  with  affright, 
and  the  next  instant  anxious  to  measure  his  strength 
with  the  spirits  of  the  air,  it  required  all  Daisy's 
tact  to  keep  him  from  outbreak.  A  night  of  hor- 
rors ;  but  it  passed.  Morning  found  Dr.  Landseer 
beside  the  bed.     His  patient  was  a  raving  maniac. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

CULMINATING. 

A  MONTH  passed,  —  a  month  of  torture  such  as 
had  never  been  known  in  Mr.  Delafield's  home. 
To  spare  the  parents,  to  hide  their  anguish  from  the 
world,  the  good  Martin  removed  Jay  to  her  own 
room,  barring  the  door  and  windows  that  his  infuri- 
ated screams  might  not  be  heard.  It-was  pitiful  to 
look  upon  one  so  nobly  endowed,  so  richly  gifted 
with  all  that  could  make  life  happy,  and  think  that 
drink  placed  him  there.  Fearful  to  listen  to  his  im- 
precations against  the  God  that  made  him,  the  inco- 
herent and  muttered  curses,  the  battling  with  spirits, 
at  intervals  a  lucid  moment,  like  a  flash  of  sunlight 
in  some  dark  abyss.  Then,  as  if  seeing  his  danger, 
he  would  cry  out  for- help,  with  a  voice  of  such  an- 
guish and  deep,  piercing  despair. 

With  such  misery,  it  required  all  the  nerve  Daisy 
could  master.  Her  heart  was  filled  with  pity  for  the 
mother,  vibrating  between  love  for  her  child  and 
shame  and  sorrow  at  his  disgrace  ;  while  the  rich 
merchant,  with  his  heart  tortured  till  his  lips 
were  bloodless,  went  daily  to  his  store,  blunting  his 
pain  with  toil,  and  determined,  if  possible,  to  outride 
the  storm  that  threatened  him.     How  unfathomable 

151 


152  DOWNWARDAND    UPWARD. 

the  human  heart !  How  few  know  the  heights  of 
joy  that  may  be  won,  the  beautiful  fields  in  which 
the  soul  may  bask,  or  the  depths  of  misery,  the  sting 
of  sorrow,  the  deadening,  withering,  blighting  an- 
guish in  which  the  soul  may  be  plunged,  despairing 
and  crying  out,  and  still  the  face  be  wreathed  in 
smiles,  the  lips  tossing  gay  words,  the  eyes  bright. 

Mr.  Delafield  was  ambitious.  Conscious  of  mis- 
takes, and  aware  that  in  his  blind  love  he  had  not 
exacted  from  his  sons  the  obedience  due ;  that  he 
had  failed  to  teach  them  the  responsibility  of  life ; 
that  for  them  there  was  something  to  do,  powers  of 
mind  to  be  cultivated,  right  principles  to  be  adhered 
to ;  even  for  the  worldly  advantages  they  possessed, 
that  they  must  render  a  strict  account.  Conscious 
of  this,  and  humbled  in  view  of  his  neglect,  he  was 
one  to  be  pitied.  He  had  not  counted  upon  the 
natural  evil  in  the  human  heart.  He  loved  his  chil- 
dren. It  had  been  his  aim  to  see  them  happy.  He 
had  toiled  to  heap  favors  upon  them.  They  were 
cradled  in  luxury,  lapped  in  indulgence.  Labor  was 
unknown  to  them.  He  could  afford  to  spare  them 
every  hardship,  and,  in  return,  he  expected  their 
love.  He  could  not  believe  that  for  all  his  benefits 
they  would,  as  they  grew  older,  bring  down  his  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  True,  others  had 
done  so,  and  the  record  of  Divine  law  had  come 
down  to  him,  "  Train  up  a  child."  He  had  minis- 
tered to  their  physical  wants,  to  the  refinements  of 
taste  and  to  social  culture  ;  but  he  had  not  trained 
them  to  withstand  temptation,  building  up  a  strong, 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  153 

pure  principle  within  them — teaching  them  to  feel 
that  for  every  gift  received  they  must  make  good  and 
responsible  return. 

Try  as  Mr.  Delafield  would,  immerse  himself  in 
business  as  far  as  possible,  he  could  not  set  aside 
these  thoughts.  Precious  souls  had  been  intrusted 
to  him.  The  path  was  narrow  and  steep.  There 
was  danger.  The  rough  stones  looked  formidable. 
He  had  not  urged  them.  Below,  it  was  broad  and 
fair.  The  flowers  pleased  them ;  the  gold-green 
mosses  won  them  to  wander.  He  had  not  called 
them  back.  He  liked  to  see  them  enjoy  themselves. 
By  and  by  they  would,  of  their  own  accord,  begin 
the  ascent.  From  his  present  standpoint,  Mr.  Dela- 
field saw  it  all.  The  mountain  heights  were  fresh 
and  pure:  the  narrow  path,  at  first  rough  and 
thorny,  became  easier  as  they  made  the  ascent. 
The  flowers  they  had  so  much  prized  were  poisonous  ; 
the  gold-green  moss  was  only  to  conceal  the  dark 
morass :  serpents  hid  away  in  secret  places,  luring 
their  victims,  and,  at  length,  crushing  them  in  their 
hideous  folds.  Seeing  all  this,  was  it  strange  that 
he  suffered  ?  that  his  life-blood  oozed  out  in  drops 
of  agony  ? 

While  Jay  was  tossing  upon  his  bed,  Cyrus  went 
in  and  out  of  the  room,  silent  and  still.  There  was 
little  that  he  could  do ;  but,  for  a  time,  the  demon 
drink  lost  the  supremacy.  As  a  dreamer,  suddenly 
awaking,  finds  himself  on  the  verge  of  a  fearful 
precipice,  starts  back  with  horror  and  affright,  so 
Cyrus  recoiled  from  the  hot,  fiery  breath  —  the  lurid 


154  ^  O  WN  WARD  A  ND    UP  WA  K  £>. 

flames  ready  to  envelop  him.  Taking  advantage 
of  this,  Daisy  endeavored  to  rouse  his  better  nature, 
pointing  him  to  others,  and  entreating  him  to  turn 
from  the  old  paths.  At  times,  he  listened  patiently; 
then,  prompted  by  some  unseen  influence,  he  poured 
into  Daisy's  ear  the  story  of  his  life,  the  excesses  to 
which  he  was  accustomed,  the  devouring  thirst  for 
drink,  and,  when  he  tried  to  leave  it,  the  almost 
visible  presence  of  the  tempter,  goading  him  on, 
until  he  was  almost  ready  to  peril  body  and  soul  to 
gratify  his  passion.  It  was  a  new  phase  of  life,  and 
one  of  which  the  poor  girl  had  never  so  much  as 
dreamed.  Burdened  with  sorrow  that  she  could  not 
share  even  with  Ellen,  Daisy  felt,  for  the  first  time, 
the  inestimable  privilege  of  companionship  with  the 
only  friend  that  could  help  her  in  such  an  hour, 
pouring  into  His  ear  her  wants  and  her  desires,  ask- 
ing for  advice  and  counsel  to  enable  her  to  do  all 
that  there  was  for  her  to  do.  Thoughts  of  self  no 
longer  intruded  upon  her.  She  had  forgotten  the 
path  by  which  she  had  come.  Neither  did  she  look 
forward  to  see  where  it  was  tending.  Her  cry  was 
for  another :  that  Jay  might  be  spared,  and  that  this 
terrible  thirst  for  drink  might  be  stayed. 

Eveiy  day  Dr.  Landseer  gave  his  patient  as  much 
of  his  time  as  possible,  and  every  night  Grant  Clayton 
was  sure  to  come,  with  gentle  words  and  noiseless 
steps,  to  exorcise  the  spirits  that  were,  or  seemed 
to  be,  leagued  against  the  prostrate  youth.  In  health, 
there  had  been  little  sympathy  between  the  two 
young  men.     Now,  Jay  seemed  to  have  a  warm  love 


D  O  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  1  5 5 

for  the  manly  youth,  saying,  as  his  smiling  face  ap- 
peared, "  I  am  glad  that  you  are  strong  and  well. 
You  make  them  all  afraid  of  you,  and  I  can  rest." 

**  Yes,  that  is  just  what  you  are  to  do.  You  are  to 
sleep.  I  shall  keep  a  sharp  look  out;  have  no  fear," 
answered  Grant  Clayton. 

This  was  the  time  for  Martin  to  get  a  little  repose, 
and  Daisy  slipped  away  to  comfort  Ellen. 

"  There  is  so  little  for  me  to  do,"  murmured 
Ellen,  flinging  herself  into  Daisy's  arms,  and  press- 
ing her  tear-wet  cheeks  to  the  pale,  sad  face. 

"  And  that  little  may  have  more  blessing  in  it 
than  the  weightier  work  of  the  hands,"  returned 
Daisy. 

''  But  I  want  to  do  something  that  I  can  see,"  plead 
Ellen. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  vine  that  Mr.  Hawley 
showed  us — how  he  planted  it,  and,  sitting  at  his 
study-window  watched  it  day  after  day,  admiring  its 
glossy  leaves  and  clinging  tendrils?  He  had  been 
told  so  much  of  the  beauty  of  the  blossoms  ;  and, 
during  all  the  summer  days,  neither  bud  nor  blossom 
appeared,"  asked  Daisy. 

"  I  remember;  and  after  he  had  given  it  up,  think- 
ing it  a  mistake,  it  blossomed  into  beauty  far  beyond 
what  he  had  dared  to  hope,"  answered  Ellen. 

*'  But  the  blossoms  were  on  the  other  side.  It  was 
the  fence  that  prevented  him  from  seeing  them,"  said 
Daisy. 

"And  so,  when  we  try  to  do  anything,  we  may  not 
see  the  good  of 'it?  "  asked  Ellen. 


156  DOIVNIVARD   AND    UPWARD. 

"  Not  at  the  time.  Mr.  Havvley  said  it  was  for  us 
to  plant,  and,  very  possibly,  the  bloom  would  not 
reveal  its  beauty  till  viewed  from  the  other  side," 
added  Daisy. 

"  But  I  have  not  even  leaves.  Mamma  asked  me 
to  write  a  letter.  I  did  n't  more  than  half  do  it ;  and 
when  papa  came  in,  I  could  n't  say  a  word.  All  I 
could  do  was  to  sit  beside  him,  with  my  arms  about 
his  neck,"  said  Ellen,  in  a  desponding  tone. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  comforted  him  more  than 
any  form  of  speech.  Silence  expresses  sympathy 
that  sweetly  touches  the  heart,"  answered  Di. 

"  You  always  have  something  comforting  to  say  : 
and  I  try;  but  it  sticks  in  my  throat,"  rejoined  Ellen. 

**  A  smile,  a  word,  a  hand  clasp,  with  these  be 
content.  When  you  are  older,  there  will  be  other 
work.  I  hear  Cyrus's  step  in  the  hall.  Let  us  go 
and  say  something  pleasant  to  him.  I  would  be 
sorry  to  have  him  find  us  dull  and  gloomy,"  Di  re- 
turned, with  a  smile  of  encouragement. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

INTO    THE    LIGHT. 

IT  was  a  winter  morning.  The  sun  gilded  the 
mountain,  and  crowned  its  snow-capped  summit 
with  shifting  and  many-colored  lights  ;  far  away, 
the  undulating  ranges  striking  against  the  dark  blue 
of  the  sky,  making  the  distance  short  from  earth  to 
heaven.  Like  human  beings,  Nature  has  her  gala 
days,  and  glories  in  them. 

**  Glorious  in  all  His  works  !  "  and  the  good  pastor 
in  Tipton  walked  up  and  down  the  veranda,  letting 
his  thoughts  run  up  and  down  the  mountain  passes, 
as  though  a  ladder  on  which  he  saw,  ascending  and 
descending,  hosts  innumerable.  The  valley  lay  be- 
neath,—  a  silver  cord,  knotted  with  human  dwellings. 
Praise  was  written  upon  his  face ;  prayer  was  in  his 
heart.  On  his  right  was  the  small  village,  a  charm- 
ing foreground  to  the  picture.  As  he  looked,  a  tear 
glistened  and  fell  on  the  book  he  had  been  reading, 
his  finger  still  pressed  between  the  leaves.  For 
twenty-five  years  he  had  ministered  to  the  people,  and 
his  heart  was  bound  to  them  in  love.  Yonder,  in  the 
little  church-yard,  slept  the  wife  of  his  youth,  and  with 
her  the  children  she  had  borne  him.  But  one  was  left 
of  all  his  kindred,  his  youngest  and  only  sister,  a  poor, 
heart-broken  woman,  with  reason  clouded.  A  myste- 
H  157 


158  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

rious  providence;  but  His  purposes  were  good — in 
His  own  time  He  would  make  it  plain.  Another 
look  at  the  white,  glistening  peaks,  and  the  good 
man  saw,  or  seemed  to  see,  the  battlements  of  a  city, 
glorious  as  being  the  dwelling-place  of  the  Most 
High.  No  tears  in  heaven,  and  the  face  of  the  good 
pastor  grew  luminous.  "God  shall  wipe  away  all 
tears  from  their  eyes."  In  heaven,  discipline  will  nc  t 
be  needed.  The  soul,  refined  by  the  fires  of  afflic- 
tion, will  have  parted  with  every  impure  element  and 
come  forth  as  gold,  **  complete  in  all  the  will  of 
God."  Slower  grew  the  pastor's  step.  He  was  think- 
ing of  the  sad  bereavement  that  mother  had  known. 
*'  No  tears,  no  night  there,  no  sad  bereavements. 
No  clouds  to  intervene  and  settle  darkly  over  the 
horizon.  There  will  be  no  eclipse  of  the  divine 
favor  —  our  Father's  face  unobscured  forever."  In- 
sensibly his  face  fell  lower.  He  was  thinking  of  the 
partings,  tears  flowing  down  the  faces,  and  the  en- 
tire being  trembling  with  emotion.  No  heartaches 
there ;  but  all  will  be  joyous,  happy,  singing  the 
song  of  redeeming  love. 

A  click  of  the  white  gate,  and  Mr.  Hawley  turned 
his  head. 

"  Good-morning,  Seth.  I  am  glad  to  see  you. 
When  did  you  return  from  the  city  ?  " 

*'  If  that  means  when  did  I  return  to  Tipton,  last 
night.  It  is  nearly  two  months  since  I  left  New  York." 

"  Now  I  think  of  it,  your  mother  told  me.  Have 
you  arranged  everything  as  you  desire  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Hawley. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD,  I59 

"  I  believe  so.  I  am  to  enter  college  at  the  next 
commencement,"  Seth  replied. 

**  You  will  have  to  study  between  this  and  that 
time,  I  suppose." 

"  That  is  the  chief  thing  that  brought  me  here 
this  morning.  I  must  study,  and  I  must  work.  My 
studies  must  not  burden  my  mother,"  said  Seth,  while 
his  face  flushed  with  manly  pride. 

"  She  can  get  along  quite  as  well  this  year  as  she 
did  last,"  and  a  smile  lit  up  the  benevolent  face  of 
Mr.  Hawley. 

''That  is  what  I  wanted  to  know,  Mr.  Hawley. 
Will  you  have  time  to  hear  me  once  or  twice  a  week, 
at  such  times  as  I  can  give  ?  "  and  Seth  looked  pained 
and  embarrassed. 

"  That  you  have  allowed  this  to  trouble  you,  is  evi- 
dent. You  should  have  known  me  better,  Seth,"  was 
Mr.  Hawley's  response. 

"  I  am  so  much  your  debtor;  and  knowing,  as  I  do, 
that  your  time  is  taxed,  I  did  not  feel  free  to  ask, 
much  as  I  desired  it,"  added  Seth. 

"  True,  my  time  is  occupied ;  but  it  is  given  to  the 
needs  of  my  people.  You  require  my  service,  and 
profit  by  it,  consequently  it  is  yours.  Neither  should 
you  hesitate  to  ask  me.  It  is  a  pleasure  for  me  to 
teach  you  in  my  study,  as  it  is  from  the  pulpit.  So 
consider  this  question  settled.  Study  as  much  as 
possible,  and  recite  when  you  can.  Now,  tell  me  of 
our  friends.  You  saw  them,  I  suppose  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Hawley. 

"  Miss  Delafield  and  Ellen  ?"  queried  Seth. 


1 6o  DO  IV  N IV  A  R  D   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

"  And  Mr.  Lyndsey,"  added  Mr.  Hawley. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  them  each.  Ellen  sent  her  warm  .l 
love,  and  Daisy  made  me  the  bearer  of  a  small 
package  for  your  sister.  She  remembers  her  sum- 
mer trip  with  pleasure,  and  trusts  some  day  to  be 
able  to  come  again.  The  family  in  which  she  lives 
lean  upon  her ;  some  giving  love,  and  others  some- 
thing akin  to  hate.  One  can  see  that  she  tries  to 
walk  between  the  two,  as  in  duty  bound.  You  say 
that  you  have  time,  and  I  may  come  ?  "  and  Seth 
turned  to  go. 

"  Knowing  your  strait,  I  shall  be  ready,  never  fear. 
My  kind  remembrance  to  your  mother,  Seth."  And 
the  pastor  watched  the  young  man  as  he  walked 
firmly  away,  speaking  half  aloud,  as  he  turned  to  his 
room,  "He's  a  noble  lad,  and  sure  to  make  a  man, 
if  God  spares  his  life;"  and  with  this  the  pastor 
closed  his  study-door  and  bolted  it. 

The  parcel  lay  open  upon  the  table,  the  note  be- 
side it.  The  pastor  paused,  and  bowed  his  head. 
During  all  the  summer  days,  a  voice  seemed  to  say 
that  her  place  was  here.  Stronger  than  reason  is  the 
love  implanted  in  a  mother's  heart.  By  what  law, 
I  know  not,  but  there  sprang  a  sudden  love  between 
them,  asking  no  proof,  and  giving  none.  And  again 
the  good  man  recounted  the  little  incidents,  the  looks 
and  words,  as  they  chanced  to  meet;  the  feeling  of 
rest  and  quiet  on  the  sick  woman's  face,  sitting  with 
her  hand  in  Daisy's,  her  eyes  no  longer  tearful.  At 
times  he  thought  her  better,  the  inner  life  smoothed 
out,  the  tangled  thread  of  thought  unknotted.    Then 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  l6l 

a  doubt  would  come  to  mar  the  plan,  and  send  the 
airy  structure  to  the  ground  —  the  dates  were  not 
the  same.  But  might  not  Mabel's  child  have  been 
nursed  tenderly  at  first?  Might  not  the  plan  to  rear 
her  gradually  have  changed  —  a  sudden  loss  or  death 
won  them  to  desert  the  child  they  had  promised 
themselves  to  treat  with  kindness  ?  There  was  no 
answer  —  there  had  been  none  from  the  first.  All. 
means  had  been  used,  but  no  traces  could  be  found, 
and,  as  the  years  rolled  by,  all  hope  had  vanished. 
Was  it  wrong  to  let  a  thought  of  what  might  have 
been  trouble  the  serenity  of  a  heart  washed  of 
earthly  ills, —  a  heart  that  had  been  emptied  of 
worldly  goods  ?  The  pastor  did  not  question.  A  guide 
to  others,  he  was  himself  led.  Pointing  others  up  the 
narrow  track,  he  did  not  fail  himself  to  keep  the  guide 
in  view  —  the  hand  of  faith  reaching  up  for  help. 
Tribulation  could  not  separate  him  from  the  love  of 
One  whose  heart  could  be  touched  with  the  story 
of  his  woe.  He  realized  that  each  event  in  life  was 
only  a  link  in  the  golden  chain  to  draw  him  nearer, 
and  knowing  this,  he  left  it  in  the  Father's  hand. 

How  sweet,  how  precious  is  it,  when  the  heart  is 
torn,  to  have  a  God  to  go  to  in  our  need  —  the  One 
able  to  turn  the  sharpest  afflictions  into  the  greatest 
blessings  —  the  One  who  would  never  smite,  if  he 
were  not  willing  to  heal.  Neither  would  he  with- 
hold a  privilege,  if  he  had  not  a  better  substitute. 

With  such  thoughts  the  pastor  tried  to  console 
himself.      Now    looking   upon    the   tiny    half-worn 
shoes,  the  delicate  handkerchief,  and  then  pourings 
14*  L 


t62  do wn \va rd  a nd  up wa r d. 

out  his  heart  in  weakness,  —  comforted,  as  a  mother 
comforts  the  least  of  her  children.  Thus  occupied, 
the  good  man  failed  to  hear  the  slight  rap  at  the 
door;  and  not  till  a  low,  plaintive  voice  called  his 
name,  did  he  lift  his  head. 

"Mabel,  what  troubles  you?"  as  he  went  to  meet 
.the  stricken  one.  Then,  turning  for  the  tiny  half- 
worn  shoes  and  the  gossamer  handkerchief,  he  led 
her  to  her  room. 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

SHIFTING  'SANDS. 

IN  a  shrouded  room,  solemn  and  still,  a  soul  was 
passing  from  its  earthly  home.  Yesterday  Paul 
Browning  entered  the  counting-room.  The  mer- 
chant was  sitting  at  the  table,  his  head  bowed  on  his 
hand,  the  crimson  tide  pouring  over  the  pallid  lips ; 
and,  to-day,  there  is  no  hope.  Dr.  Landseer  has  no 
remedies  —  love  has  no  healthful  agencies.  Sob- 
bings have  almost  ceased,  and  tears  are  no  longer 
given.  For  hours  have  they  battled  with  their  grief. 
It  is  spent.     The  waning  life  is  almost  done. 

Over  the  threshold  totters  a  thin,  pale  youth. 
Fever  has  died  out,  and  the  wild  light  in  his  eye 
vanished.  He  kneels  beside  the  bed.  ''Father! 
father  !  speak  to  me." 

The  languid  eyes  open  ;  the  lips  move.  A  whisper 
light  as  air. 

**  My  son." 

"  Father,  forgive.     I  was  mad.     I  did  not  know." 

"We  have  both  erred,  my  son.  May  God  forgive; 
and  for  the  future  — "  There  was  a  pause,  a  flutter- 
ing of  the  breath. 

Kneeling  beside  her  first-born,  the  mother  clasped 
the  death-cold  hand. 

163 


164  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

"  For  your  mother's  sake,  my  son.  Is  Cyrus 
here?" 

Alas  !  for  days  Cyrus  had  not  been  at  home.  In 
a  strange  passion  he  left  the  house ;  and  now  a 
father's  blessing  will  not  meet  his  child.  A  look  of 
anguish  crept  over  the  ashen  face ;  the  death-damps 
gathered.  "  Tell  him,"  and  his  eye  sought  Daisy 
out.  "Help  him."  The  words  were  caught  up  on 
the  other  side  —  the  messenger  had  gone. 

It  was  the  mid-day  hour ;  and  in  the  market-place, 
and  along  the  public  squares,  it  quickly  passed:  "A 
rich  man  's  dead."  Some  praise  him  as  a  good, 
kind-hearted  soul,  with  generous  purse  held  open  to 
his  friends;  and  others  blamed  :  "Too  ||sy  by  half. 
Those  sons  of  his  have  squandered  all  his  gains.  No 
wonder  that  he  's  dead." 

Each  had  a  word,  and  then  he  was  forgot,  —  the 
man  on  whom  they  had  fawned  in  life,  eating  his 
suppers,  and  crowding  in  at  his  hospitable  board. 
So  much  for  love.  And,  still,  this  man  had  a  heart 
to  prize  it,  to  yearn  after  it  as  the  goodliest  thing 
earth  had  to  give. 

From  a  princely  home,  a  richly-blazoned  coffin 
was  carried  forth.  Then  followed  a  long  train  of 
sumptuous  carriages,  winding  along  the  street  to  the 
place  of  graves.  Solemn  and  slow,  they  placed  him 
in  a  sculptured  vault,  and  turned  away.  Their  hearts 
were  lighter  with  a  duty  done. 

A  week  passed,  and  there  was  rumor  of  a  broken 
firm.     The  rich  man  died  a  bankrupt. 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  165 

"  No  wonder,"  said  the  world,  and  rolled  along. 
One  grain  of  sand  is  never  missed,  one  withered 
leaf  unnoticed. 

"  His  goods  will  have  t-o  go,"  said  one  he  called  a 
friend. 

**  There '11  be  a  chance  to  make"  a  figure,"  said  an- 
other. 

**  His  horses  will  just  suit  me,"  cried  a  third. 

"  And  his  house.  I  knew  the  time  would  come. 
Such  lavish  expenditure  could  not  last.  There  will 
be  no  more  driving  up  and  down  the  town,  and  less 
champagne  those  boys  will  guzzle  down."  Thus 
each  had  something  to  throw  against  the  coffin  of 
his  friend — while,  in  her  humble  home,  a  widow 
sat  and  wept. 

*'  When  Grant  was  ill,  he  was  our  faithful  friend. 
His  kindness  saved  us.  I  could  not  have  kept  my 
children  but  for  him." 

Struck  down  in  her  grief,  the  failure  did  not  aston- 
ish Mrs.  Delafield.  In  a  manner,  she  was  prepared 
for  it ;  and  Daisy  and  Ellen  sustained  themselves  as 
those  who  had  thought  of  the  possibility  of  such  an 
event.  For  months,  Mr.  Delafield  had  battled  with 
his  fears,  and  freely  had  he  spoken  to  his  wife  and 
children. 

To  Jay  and  Cyrus  it  was  unexpected.  Stunned 
by  the  blow,  they  could  not  realize  it.  There  was 
some  mistake.  True,  their  father  had  warned  them; 
but  he  was  ill.  It  could  not  be  that  his  wealth  had 
really  disappeared.  And  not  till  the  red  flag  was 
perched  in  the  front  window  did  they  begin  to  feel 


l66  D  O  WAYWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

it  was  anything  but  a  myth, —  a  bugbear  conjured  up 
to  frighten  them.  Jay  was  better,  but  he  was  not 
strong.  Cyrus  was  more  erratic  than  before.  What 
was  done,  Daisy  must  do;  and  bravely  she  endeav- 
ored to  fulfil  the  task. 

In  these  circumstances,  frequent  consultations  were 
held.  Dr.  Landseer  was  made  still  more  of  a  confi- 
dant. The  house  in  which  they  lived  must  be  given 
up.  Jay  protested,  and  Cyrus  urged  a  delay  to  the 
last  limit  of  the  law. 

"  I  would  rather  do  it  now,"  said  Mrs.  Delafield. 
"  This  plan  your  father  would  have  resorted  to  had 
he  lived.  A  smaller  house  will  better  suit  us,  and, 
if  we  find  that  more  is  left  us  than  would  now  ap- 
pear, an  arrangement  can  easily  be  made  more  in 
keeping  with  our  taste." 

Affliction  weakens  some  natures  ;  it  strengthens 
and  ennobles  others.  As  the  fiery  furnace  to  purge 
the  dross  from  the  pure  metal,  so  sorrow  burns  into 
the  heart,  sending  a  white  heat  through  the  nooks 
and  crevices  of  each  secret  chamber,  bringing  out  in 
palpable  shape  and  form  whatever  is  good  and 
worthy,  and  burning  up,  like  dross,  the  glittering 
tinsel  of  selfish  indulgence.  Mrs.  Delafield's  ener- 
gies were  aroused.  She  was  capable  of  being  a  true 
woman.  Possessed  of  a  lofty  spirit,  she  would  not 
have  it  flung  in  her  teeth  that  she  was  living  on 
money  that  belonged  to  her  husband's  creditors. 
Mrs.  Delafield  was  too  proud  to  be  vain.  Besides, 
she  saw,  as  did  her  husband,  the  mistake  made  in 
the    education    of  her  children,  and   her  love   was 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  167 

awakened,  her  prudence  startled.  Her  sons  were 
young.  This  would  rouse  their  better  nature.  When 
they  saw  the  sacrifice  that  she  could  make,  they 
would  be  induced  to  put  forth  every  effort.  Thus 
nerving  herself,  and  hoping  in  every  turn  to  see 
amendment,  Mrs.  Delafield  allowed  Daisy  to  plan 
and  arrange  for  the  comfort  of  a  smaller  house,  a 
less  expensive  establishment. 

'*  We  are  each  of  us  to  do  something,"  said  Daisy, 
as  Dr.  Landseer  called  to  offer  a  little  of  his  practi- 
cal wisdom.  "  My  voice  has  been  praised  for  sweet- 
ness and  power.  Expense  has  been  lavished  to  cul- 
tivate it ;  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  a  gift  whereby 
I  can  support  myself  and  benefit  others." 

"  There  was  a  time  when  it  would  have  cost  me 
more  to  make  this  change  than  it  does  at  present," 
Mrs.  Delafield  remarked,  as,  with  the  freedom  of  a 
friend.  Dr.  Landseer  spoke  of  her  sons.  "  We  have 
been  too  indulgent  with  our  children.  In  our"  love, 
we  thought  it  the  greatest  good  to  save  them  as  much 
as  possible  from  actual  contact  with  the  stern  reali- 
ties of  life.  We  flattered  ourselves  it  would  be  time 
enough  when  they  grew  up,"  and  the  tears  rained 
over  the  mother's  face. 

"  When  vines  are  weak  they  are  propped,"  replied 
the  doctor ;  **  but  when  strong  enough  to  stand 
alone,  they  are  suffered  to  climb,  with  but  a  narrow 
thread  to  run  upon." 

**  And  thus  you  argue  human  vines  have  to  be 
trained,  supported,  not  carried." 

"  There  is  nothing  brought  to  perfection  without 


1 68  DO  IVN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D. 

labor.  Favoring  circumstances  add  greatly  to  har- 
monious growth,  but  persistent  effort  overcomes  and 
smooths  the  ruggedness  of  the  way  —  the  beauty  and 
symmetry  the  more  marked  because  of  unfavorable 
surroundings,"  was  the  reply. 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  that  troubles  me,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Delafield ;  "  a  fear  that  the  routine  of 
business  will  be  deemed  drudgery,  from  which  they 
will  be  anxious  to  escape  by  some  other  door. 
Without  business  habits,  and  with  less  to  spend,  it 
will  require  a  good  deal  of  moral  courage." 

"There  are  turning-points  in  every  life — times 
when  the  soul  looks  over  the  field  of  promise  and 
wisely  resolves  to  win  a  position.  Let  us  hope  for 
the  best.  In  the  meantime,  we  are  to  help  them  all 
we  can,"  returned  Dr.  Landseer. 

Friendship  is  a  plant  of  delicate  growth.  A  breath 
mars  its  beauty,  and  a  word  may  kill  it.  Like  seed 
dropped  into  different  soils,  its  growth  is  affected  by 
the  circumstances  in  which  it  is  placed.  Rough 
winds  are  unfavorable  to  its  perpetuity.  Mrs. 
Delafield  was  led  to  philosophize.  It  was  autumn 
with  her  friends;  and  the  few  wafted  to  her  door  by 
the  spent  wind  of  kindly  favor,  loitered  just  long 
enough  to  remind  her  of  the  past,  and  with  a  sigh, 
whether  of  loss  to  themselves  or  of  condolence  for 
her,  swept  gracefully  away. 

"  There  is  one  advantage.  We  know  those  who 
care  for  us  in  reality,"  and  a  blush  mantled  Daisy's 
cheek. 

Thanks  to  Mr.  Delafield,  Grant  Clayton  could  walk, 


D  OIVNIVARD   AND    UPWARD.  169 

and  a  path  was  opening  up  to  him  of  usefulness  and 
honor.  Humble  as  he  was,  he  had  the  courage  to 
offer  deeds,  and  the  bare  consciousness  that  his  ser- 
vices were  accepted  thrilled  his  manly  spirit  with 
still  deeper  feeling.  The  generous  soul  realizes  an 
exquisite  pleasure  in  being  able  to  return  a  favor. 
Much  of  the  weariness  and  labor  of  change  Mrs. 
Clayton  and  Grant  took  upon  themselves,  leaving 
Mrs.  Delafield  to  see  little  of  the  roughness  of  the 
way,  and  helping  Daisy  materially  in  her  new  and 
untried  plans.  Since  Jay's  illness.  Grant  had  been 
on  more  intimate  terms  with  him ;  and,  still,  there 
.was  little  in  common,  —  the  one  obliged  to  do, 
thereby  increasing  in  mental  as  well  as  in  physical 
strength  ;  the  other,  self-indulgent  and  fond  of  dissi- 
pation. Unselfish  in  his  effort,  Grant  made  bold  to 
suggest  plans,  speaking  of  those  who  had  come  up 
through  the  agency  of  their  own  persistent  effort. 
Jay  listened  at  times,  and  at  others  grew  impatient, 
while  Cyrus  manifested  decided  dislike  for  anything 
like  business. 

The  new  home  was  in  the  near  vicinity  of  Mr. 
Parton's  dwelling,  and  the  kindly  relations  subsist- 
ing between  the  pastor  and  Daisy  and  Ellen  strength- 
ened tenfold.  Not  alone  on  the  Sabbath  day  did 
they  receive  new  life  and  encouragement  from  meet- 
ing in  the  sanctuary,  but  during  the  week, — the  words 
scattered  tending  greatly  to  stimulate  exertion  and 
to  keep  their  hearts  from  fainting  by  the  way. 
Gradually  Mrs.  Delafield  was  won  into  more  thought- 
fulness,  the  story  of  His  love  opening  up  to  her 
15 


1 70  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D. 

beauty  and  tenderness  unseen  before,  —  the  days  not 
as  lonely,  self  and  selfish  sorrow  forgotten  in  realiz- 
ing, to  some  extent,  the  watchful  care  round  about 
them.  If  old  friends  deserted  them,  they  made 
some  new  ones,  and  of  a  class  which  they  had  not 
previously  encountered,  their  pulses  -beating  more  in 
harmony  with  suffering  souls,  a  quick,  generous 
sympathy  springing  up,  leading  them  out  of  them- 
selves, and  thus  increasing  their  happiness  in  pro- 
portion as  they  endeavored  to  sustain  others.  In 
these  little  schemes,  Jay  and  Cyrus  took  no  part,  ab- 
senting themselves  as  much  as  possible ;  and,  still, 
under  the  name  of  business,  ""oinq;  out  at  niq-ht,  and 
returning  beside  themselves  with  drink,  unheeding 
the  warnings  and  the  entreaties  of  those  that  loved 
them.  Then  confined  to  his  room  by  that  fearful  ill- 
ness that  succeeds  days  of  dissipation,  it  was  pitiful 
to  listen  to  Jay,  the  yearning,  heart-devouring  rest- 
lessness, anxious  to  do,  and  still  irritated  by  reason 
of  the  change.  Confined  to  the  drudgery  of  busi- 
ness, when  he  had  all  his  life  been  accustomed  to 
habits  of  ease  and  indulgence,  the  excitement  of 
drink,  the  surcease  from  care. 

"  You  would  not  wonder  at  it,  if  you  knew  just 
how  I  feel.  Try  as  I  will,  I  cannot  settle  myself  to 
the  dull,  plodding  round  of  a  day  laborer,  goaded 
and  stung  in  thinking  of  what  I  was  and,  now,  what 
I  am,"  and,  burying  his  face  in  the  pillow,  such 
bitter,  burning  tears,  such  withering  sobs,  as  made 
them  all  weep.  Won  back  by  care,  and  soothed  by 
unwearied  tenderness,  to  go  forth  again,  only  to  re- 


D  O  VVN IV A  A'  n   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D.  I  / 1 

turn  in  the  same  manner,  the  good  within  him 
weaker,  the  evil  influences  stronger  by  reason  of  in- 
dulgence. 

A   year   had  passed.     It  was  a  June  day.     The 

earth  looked  up  with  a  smile  of  faith  and  love  into 

the  clear,  blue  sky,  whose  mysterious  depths  seemed 

to  give  promise  of  a  brighter,  better  future.    A  gentle 

^^_^       west  wind  came  up  the  pleasant  street,  and  stately 

^^      trees  and  odorous  flowers  sent  a  love-greeting.    Upon 

f  the  veranda  of  a  quiet  house  stood  a  young  girl,  and 

looked  admiringly  upon  the  sunshine  and  the  clouds. 

Rich  bloom  was  on  her  cheek,  and  her  red  lips  parted. 

Her  glowing  face  was  full  of  expectation.     A  vine- 

P         rose  was  struggling  up  the  rustic  porch.     **  Suppose 

I  help  it  climb,"  was  murmured  to  herself,  and,  plung- 

^  ■  ^    .  ing  her  hand  within  the  depth  of  green,  she  drew  it 

^v ^"^to  its  height,  and  fastened  it  with  a  blue  thread  to  an 

.^..outstanding  nail. 

"  Your  vines  have  a  healthy  look.  I  'm  glad  to  see 
them  thrive  so  well,"  said  a  well-known  voice,  and 
Daisy  turned  to  welcome  Dr.  Landseer. 

"  I  was  not  quite  sure :  I  was  in  hopes,"  and  the 
blood  mounted  in  rosy  waves,  then  left  the  face  with 
that  calm  pallor  that  denotes  high  resolve.  **  I 
wanted  you  to  see  how  nice  we  look:  and  there  is 
something  else,"  and  Daisy  snapped  a  rosebud  from 
the  stem. 

**  You  do  not  fear  to  tell  me,  child  ?  " 
**  I  do  not  fear ;  but  I  have  been  to  you  so  many 
times.    For  three  days  Jay  has  been  in  bed ;  and  this 


172  DO  IVN IV  A  A'  L    A  ND    UF  W  A  R  D. 

morning  he  raves  much  as  he  did  in  that  fearful 
illness." 

"  It  is  too  bad;  and,  still,"  and  a  vexed  look  was 
on  the  doctor's  face.  "  It  is  not  a  week  since  I  took 
him  out  to  ride,  and  told  him  that  the  only  way  for 
him  and  Cyrus  to  do  was  to  give  it  up  at  once.  He 
promised  — promised  faithfully,  poor  boy." 

"  His  mother  feels  it  far  more  than  she  did  at  first ; 
and  Ellen  sleeps  not  a  wink,"  continued  Daisy. 

"Where  is  she  now?  "  asked  Dr.  Landseer. 

*'  I  sent  her  to  Mr.  Parton  for  a  book.  I  did  it 
purposely.  She  is  too  young  to  feel  so  sadly  over 
what  she  cannot  help." 

"  That 's  a  mistaken  theory ;  and,  if  carried  far, 
would  strand  her  where  the  others  lie.  Sorrow  and 
joy  blossom  in  paths  trod  by  the  young  as  well  as 
by  the  old.  Standing  upon  the  shore  the  boy  will 
never  learn  to  swim,  but  plunging  in  and  battling 
with  the  waves,  he  learns  to  conquer,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, earnestly. 

"  You  must  confess  it 's  hard  to  see  a  child  bearing 
the  burdens  of  middle  age,"  returned  Daisy. 

"  The  child  bears  his  own  burden  suited  to  his 
strength,  and  just  as  needful  for  him,  as  a  child,  as 
the  one  sure  to  be  given  in  after  years.  I  remember 
when  I  felt  as  sadly,  looking  at  a  crushed  butterfly 
lifeless  in  my  hand,  as  I  have  since  done  in  losing 
those  I  love,"  rejoined  the  doctor. 

"  I  like  to  think  He  fits  the  burden  for  us.  Still,  I 
have  sometimes  thought  it  is  easier  to  bear  than  to 
see  others  suffer,"  was  Daisy's  reply. 


D  O  WN  \VA  R  D   A  ND    UP  W  A  R  D.  1/3 

*'  In  whatever  sorrow,  remember  that  He  will  bear 
by  far  the  greatest  share,  comforting  as  He  did  of 
old  the  two  walking  in  company  to  the  small  village 
where  they  lived ;  and  when  He  would  go  farther, 
with  one  accord  they  cried,  'Abide  with  us,'  and  He 
did  not  refuse,"  said  Dr.  Landseer. 

A  step  was  on  the  stair,  and  Mrs.  Delafield  spoke 
cheerfully:  "It's  pretty,  isn't  it?  and  cheerful  with 
its  song  of  birds,  and  scent  of  roses  such  as  I  've 
seen  in  country  places  growing  wild.  I  always  knew 
Daisy  for  a  handy  little  woman,  but  I  had  not  tested 
her  fine  skill  in  fitting  up  small  rooms." 

It  was  said  bravely,  to  hide  her  grief,  and  the  doc- 
tor knew  it.  Pausing,  he  laid  his  finger  on  her  arm. 
"  Have  no  concealments.      I  '11  serve  you,  if  I  can." 

Tears  d'mmed  the  mother's  eyes. 

"  Jay  feels  degraded  in  the  room  of  being  roused, 
as  I  had  hoped.  He  says  he  has  tried ;  but  it  is  hard 
to  meet  with  those  he  used  to  know;  and  then,  to 
drown  his  thoughts,  he  flies  to  drink.  I  cannot  bear 
to  think  of  it ;  and,  still,  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

"Is  he  in  his  room?  •"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  He  is  in  his  room,  half  wild,  and  doubtful  what  to 
do.  He  thinks  sometimes  that  it  would  be  easier 
for  him  somewhere  else.  I  have  thought  of  that ; 
but,  oh,  I  cannot  bear  to  have  him  leave  me  now. 
So  long  as  he  is  with  us,  we  can  watch  over  him  to 
some  extent;  and  should  he  fail — "  while  sobs 
shook  the  thin  frame,  and  the  mother's  tears  fell 
fast. 

'*  Let  us  take  heart.  Reforms  are  not  effected 
15* 


1 74  DO  \VN  IV A  RD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D. 

without  continual  struggle.  To  accomplish  anything 
worth  doing,  one  has  to  strive  ;  and  to  keep  from 
doing  requires  as  much  strength  of  nerves  and  force 
of  will  as  to  keep  doing,"  and  the  doctor's  voice  was 
full  of  tenderness. 

'*  Your  words  are  helpful,  and  I  owe  you  much. 
Will  you  see  Jay  ?  "  and  leaving  Dr.  Landseer  to 
enter  alone,  Mrs.  Delafield  turned  to  the  silence  of 
her  room  to  weep  and  pray  as  stricken  mothers 
only  can. 

The  sun  was  waning  when  Dr.  Landseer  left  his 
patient's  room.  Ellen  was  sitting  on  the  steps  read- 
ing her  book.  Her  eyes  filled  as  she  looked  up. 
Mrs.  Delafield  was  sitting  near. 

"  Jay  is  sorry  for  his  fault,  and  says  it  frankly.  Sit- 
ting at  home,  we  may  not  know  how  sorely  he  is 
tried.  To  help  him  may  demand  that  he  should 
leave  the  city,  and  Cyrus  with  him,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Do  you  advise  it.  Dr.  Landseer?"  asked  Mrs. 
Delafield. 

"I  do  not  advise  it;  but  perhaps  it  will  be  best." 

"  If  we  could  go  with  them,"  said  Mrs.  Delafield. 
"  Without  a  home  to  go  to,  not  even  a  friend  to  in- 
fluence them  aright,  I  shall  feel  still  more  anxious 
with  regard  to  them." 

"  Others  have  to  swing  up  from  round  to  round. 
It  is  an  easy  thing  to  go  to  the  mast-head,  but 
quite  another  thing  to  come  down.  It  is  the  coming 
down  that  troubles  Jay,  and,  on  that  account,  it  may 
be  easier  to  begin  on  new  ground.     I  see  that  Bar- 


D  O  IVN  VVA  R  D   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D.  1 75 

bara   is  with   you,"  continued  the  doctor,  as  the  air 
of  a  quaint  song  floated  out  to  them. 

"  Barbara  has  never  known  any  other  home.  I 
could  not  bear  to  send  her  away  so  long  as  she 
chooses  to  remain,"  replied  Mrs.  Delafield. 

"  Here  is  a  note  for  Daisy.  I  forgot  to  give  it  as 
I  came  in,"  added  the  doctor,  as  he  was  taking  his 
leave. 

"  She  is  here  to  take  it  for  herself,  and  also  to  tell 
Dr.  Landseer  what  he  will  be  glad  to  know  —  that 
she  has  already  a  fine  class  in  music,"  said  Daisy, 
coming  from  an  inner  room. 

"  Not  fashionable,  of  course,  or  they  would  not 
practise  through  the  summer,"  rejoined  the  doctor, 
with  a  laugh. 

"  Neither  am  I  a  professor,"  replied  Daisy. 

"  Professors  do  not  make  the  best  teachers,"  con- 
tinued the  doctor. 

"  My  fame  is  to  be  won,"  added  Daisy. 

**  Singing  birds  are  always  prized.  Have  you  no 
curiosity  about  the  note  ?  "  and  the  doctor's  hand 
closed  over  it. 

''Another  pupil,  perhaps." 

"  I  would  n't  wonder  if  it  is.  Don't  refuse,  Daisy. 
I  judge,  from  the  handwriting,  it  is  from  one  that 
can  be  trusted,"  said  the  doctor,  making  his  bow. 

"It  is  something  to  be  thankful  for,  —  a  friend 
like  Dr.  Landseer,"  and  Daisy  ran  away  to  read  her 
note. 


T 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

LEAVING    HOME. 

HE  little  village  of  Tipton  was  bathed  in  the 
golden  glow  of  sunset.  A  crimson  fringe  of 
cloud  rested  on  the  brown  hills,  and  melted  into 
shadowy  waves  to  meet  the  crisp  stubble-fields. 

At  the  door  of  her  home  Mrs.  White  sat,  the  per- 
fume of  the  flov.'ers  stealing  into  her  heart,  and  stir- 
ring memory  -yith  thought:  of  earlier  days.  Her 
eyes  caught  the  rippling  brown  of  Lydia's  hair,  as, 
seated  on  the  steps,  she  looked  for  the  dun  cows 
coming  down  the  lane.  A  quiet  summer  they  had 
passed,  and,  if  they  seldom  spoke  of  what  had 
been,  they  thought  of  it  the  more.  With  work  and 
study,  Seth  had  been  content,  while  Lydia's  thought 
was  merged  in  his  life  plan,  and  her  hand  was  quick 
to  help  in  little  nameless  ways.  Autumn  trailed 
her  robes  across  the  fields,  and,  with  the  help  of 
Nathan  Orcutt  and  his  team,  the  frugal  sheaves  were 
gathered  in. 

To  Lydia,  this  darling  brother  Seth  was  the  ideal 
of  manly  strength  and  excellence.  She  dreamed  of 
him  at  night,  and  feasted  her  soul  with  stolen  looks 
by  day,  careful  to  guard  her  tongue   when   once  his 

176 


D  O  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  W A  R D.  I // 

eye  rested  upon  his  book, —  a  woman's  instinct  ren- 
dering her  quick  to  guard  his  time  as  something 
more  precious  than  she  called  her  own.  Quiet  and 
sweet  her  love,  asking  for  nothing  and  giving  all, 
without  the  shadow  of  a  thought  the  time  miofht 
come  when  other  longings  would  spring  up  to  mar 
her  restfulness. 

A  merry  whistle  broke  upon  the  air,  and  Lydia 
bounded  like  a  fawn,  dropping  the  brown  bars  with 
her  dimpled  hand,  standing  in  quiet  grace,  as  Bess 
and  Nell  and  May,  looking  their  welcome  with  great 
mellow  eyes,  passed  down  the  lane. 

A  handful  of  bright-hued  flowers,  asters  and  golden 
rod,  knotted  with  long  brown  grass,  Seth  brings. 
'*  I  've  robbed  the  pasture,"  as  he  placed  them  in 
Lydia's  hand. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  thought  of  me,"  ventured  Lydia, 
and  blushes  met  the  golden  of  her  hair. 

"  I  'm  always  doing  that,"  replied  Seth,  and  one 
by  one  the  bars  shot  into  place. 

"  Keep  them,  mother,  till  I  come  in,"  said  Lydia, 
as  she  sprang  gayly  to  the  porch  and  down  again, 
armed  with  a  pail,  and  taking  one  for  Seth.  Then 
crouching  down  by  the  side  of  Bess,  she  brimmed 
her  pail  with  foam.  "  You  are  a  good  Bess.  Good- 
night," nodding  her  head.  With  this  she  swings  her 
pail  with  steady  step  to  the  small  dairy,  where  her 
mother  waits  to  strain  from  speck  and  hair  the 
creamy  wave  in  pans  to  set  upon  the  glistening  shelf. 
This  done,  and  the  dun  cows  fed,  Seth  fills  the  basin 
at  the  pump,  and  bathes  his  heated  brow  and  toil- 

M 


178  DO  WN  IVA  RD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R IJ. 

stained  hands,  wiping  his  face  on  the  crash  towel 
hanging  by  the  door,  changes  his  coat,  and  brushes 
out  his  hair,  his  work  done  for  the  day. 

"  I  took  the  office  in  my  round  ;  and  here  's  a  let- 
ter only  half  read,"  as  quietly  he  took  the  chair 
Lydia  had  placed  for  him  on  the  narrow  porch. 

"  From  Cousin  Herbert,"  and  Lydia  rested  her 
head  on  Seth's  broad  shoulder.  "What  does  he  say? 
Please  read  it,  Seth." 

"  He  writes  to  tell  us  of  his  summer  tour,  per- 
haps," and  Mrs.  White  rocked  in  her  easy-chair.  "I 
was  in  hopes  he'd  spend  a  week  with  us.  I  like  him 
for  himself  as  well  as  for  the  mother's  look  he  wears." 

"  He 's  hard  at  work,  and  with  but  little  time," 
Seth  replied.  "  The  letter  turns  not  upon  himself. 
He  has  a  plan  for  me." 

The  words  dropped  slowly,  every  one  distinct. 
Quick  beat  the  mother's  heart.  Strange  thoughts 
had  floated  through  her  brain  all  day,  with  sense  of 
change  and  presage  of  something  shadowy  and  un- 
defined. It  was  of  this  she  dreamed,  as  sitting  on 
the  porch,  the  sunset  radiance  tinged  the  distant 
hills,  a  keen  thrust  stinging  her  heart.  Full  well 
she  knows  it  is  the  mother's  lot  to  bear,  to  rear,  to 
lose.  How  quick  the  children  slip  from  loving  arms. 
'T  was  only  yesterday  Seth  was  a  baby,  pulling  at 
her  gown  and  denting  her  bosom  with  his  pearly 
teeth.  That's  gone.  She  does  not  feel  so  very  old, 
and  he  's  fast  merging  into  bearded  manliness.  She 
sees  his  father  in  his  face,  this  boy  on  whom  she's 
leaned,  and    now    her  prophetic   heart  tells   her  of 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  1/9 

change.  Longing  to^hear,  and  still  she  dreads  to 
know,  a  moment  passes. 

"  Tell  us,  my  son." 

"  You  know  my  plans  were  frustrated  last  year. 
I  wrote  him  of  it,  and  also  of  my  studies,  the  books 
I  'd  read.  He  says  he  thinks  it  would  be  well  for  me 
to  take  a  private  class,  —  enough  to  pay  my  way,  — 
and  study  just  the  same  myself  in  class,  and  under 
the  guidance  of  professors,  every  day.  He  knows 
of  such  a  place,  and,  if  I  wish,  he  will  secure  it  for 
me.  It  seems  to  me  a  goodly  offer,  my  very  wish, 
only  the  leaving  home."  Seth  dropped  his  voice  to 
a  low  whisper,  and  his  misty  eyes  saw  not  the  an- 
guish in  his  mother's  face. 

"  I  have  known,  sooner  or  later,  it  must  come  to 
this,"  and  there  was  a  gurgling  sound  in  the  mother's 
throat;  while  Lydia  twined  her  white  arms  around 
her  brother's  neck  and  sobbed  heavily. 

"  If  your  heart  is  against  it,  mother,  and  you,  my 
little  sister,"  lifting  her  head  and  kissing  her  brown 
cheek,  "the  answer  is  yours  to  give." 

"  You  must  go,  Seth.  I  've  felt  something  was 
asked  of  me  through  all  the  day.  I  've  had  such 
thoughts  before.  It  would  be  wrong  to  keep  you 
back  from  work  that  you  can  do.  God  opens 
paths,  and,  if  we  fail  to  enter,  the  penalty  is  ours. 
When  does  he  think  you  had  best  leave  ?  "  asked  the 
mother. 

"  Within  a  month." 

"  So  soon  !  And  yet  't  is  best.  Have  you  seen 
Mr.  Hawley  ?  " 


1 80  DO  WN  WA  RD    A  N  D    UP  W  A  R  D. 

"  No  one  but  you,"  returned  Seth. 

"  I  know  he  will  approve.  Still,  it  may  be  well  tc 
counsel  with  him.  I  heard  to-day  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Lisle,  is  very  ill ;  and,  as  her  body  weakens  day  by 
day,  her  mind  is  more  at  rest,  with  glimpses  not  un- 
frequent  of  reason,"  continued  Mrs.  White.  " 

'''He  has  been  a  faithful  watcher.  Would  he  could 
see  her  all  that  she  was  to  him,"  said  Seth. 

"There  is  a  rumor  that  her  husband  has  been 
heard  from,  and  this  has  caused  the  change,"  replied 
Mrs.  White. 

"It  is  strange:  the  wanderings  of  tangled  intel- 
lects,^the  wisdom  sometimes  displayed,  and  the  wild 
vagaries — the  saddest  of  all  human  ills,"  added 
Seth. 

"  I  should  not  think  she'd  care  to  see  her  husband. 
W^as  I  in  Mr.  Hawley's  place,  he  should  not  look 
at  her,"  and  indignation  gleamed  iji  Lydia's  eyes. 

"  We  must  not  condemn  without  full  hearing  of 
his  story,"  said  Mrs.  White.  "  That  there  was  blame 
and  grievous  wrong  is  sure ;  by  whom  inflicted  is 
not  known.  The  child  was  stolen,  doubtless  mur- 
dered, that  she  might  not  claim  the  property  in  her 
father's  right,"  and  Mrs.  W^nite  stood  up,  pausing  a 
moment  to  tangle  her  fingers  in  the  mesh  of  short, 
crisp  curls  thai  fell  over  Seth's  forehead.  "  Your 
letter  has  mad 3  me  half  forget  the  supper  waiting, 
all  but  the  quick  drawn  tea." 

"  That  I  am  to  make,"  and  Lydia  slid  behind  her 
brother's  chair. 

The  sweetest  drops  of  bliss  are  concentrated  in  the 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  l8l 

smallest  space  of  time.  The  mother's  heart  was  drink- 
ing- in  a  joy,  the  memory  of  which  would  gladden 
life  for  years  to  come. 

**  Come,  mother,  for  a  cup  of  tea.  I  know  it 's 
nice ;  and  the  cakes  Seth  loves  so  well^  crisped  to  a 
turn,"  said  Lydia,  in  a  voice  bright  and  clear. 

Mrs.  White  was  not  one  to  brood  over  what  could 
not  be  helped.  Hers  was  too  healthful  a  nature  to 
find  fault.  She  did  not  dream  to  hinder  Seth  in  his 
course.  Her  pride  was  only  equalled  by  her  love. 
She  would  not  have  him  dwarfed  and  stinted  because 
of  weakness  on  her  part,  and  resolutely  flinging  her 
grief  aside,  she  led  the  way  to  the  small  supper- 
room,  turning  the  channel  of  thought,  and  at  once 
beginning  to  plan  for  the  coming  change. 

The  autumn  moon  was  looking  in  at  the  window 
of  the  pastor's  study,  tinging  the  books  and  laying 
bars  of  light  acros?  the  wall.  Warm  as  the  days,  the 
nights  were  crisp  and  cool,  and  a  small  fire  of  sticks 
was  burning  faintly  on  the  hearth. 

In  his  study  chair,  the  pastor  sat  before  a  table 
piled  with  folios,  papers,  and  manuscripts.  In  one 
hand  he  held  an  open  letter,  and  in  the  other  pillowed 
his  chin,  his  elbow  on  the  table.  At  his  feet  lay  a 
graceful  hound,  with  head  stretched  out  to  meet  the 
fire.  Like  her  master,  she  was  dreaming,  perchance, 
of  what  had  been.  Above  the  mantel  hung  the 
pictured  outline  of  a  lovely  girl,  her  sunny  curls 
and  laughter-loving  eyes  like  liquid  wells  of  well- 
directed  thought.  The  play  of  moonbeams  on  the 
rug,  and  Blanche  started,  yawned,  and  stretched  her- 


1 8  2  DO  IV  N  WA  RD   A  N  D    UP  IF  A  A'  D, 

self,  then  turned  and  rubbed  her  graceful  length  of 
nose  against  the  pastor's  knee.  The  charm  was 
broken,  and,  with  a  sigh,  the  good  man  raised  his  head. 

"You  are  a  good  friend,  Blanche,"  and  he  laid  the 
letter  on  the  table,  and  patted  the  silken  head.  A 
little  whimpering  cry  was  Blanche's  response. 

For  twenty  -  five  years  this  small  room  had 
been  the  pastor's  favorite  resort.  Not  alone  to  study, 
but  to  think  and  dream.  An  uneventful  life,  and, 
still,  sharp  and  fiery  trials  had  been  his.  When  first 
he  came  to  Tipton,  his  heart  was  rich  in  love  of 
wife  and  children  ;  while  a  young  sister  left  to  his 
care,  as  the  last  charge  of  a  dying  mother,  made  his 
home  happy  as  a  home  could  be.  For  years  his  wife 
and  children  had  slept  in  the  quiet  churchyard,  and 
this  one  sister  was  a  faded,  broken-hearted  woman. 
There  was  a  struggle  in  the  pastor's  heart.  This 
letter  was  from  one  to  whom  he  had  given  the  price- 
less boon  of  a  sister's  love.  In  all  the  land  there 
was  not  a  happier  home.  Then  came  a  tiny  birdling 
to  the  nest,  folded  its  wings,  and  grew  on  the  glad 
smiles  it  won.  The  father  was  beside  himself  with 
joy,  and  it  was  hard  to  tell  which  worshipped  most, 
—  the  mother,  in  her  gushing  wealth  of  love,  or  the 
proud  father,  his  heart  brimming  over  with  tender- 
ness. Then  came  a  change :  the  world  was  dark, 
and  that  sweet  mother's  thoughts  wildered  and 
jangled,  like  discordant  bells. 

It  was  not  his  fault,  the  husband  writes.  A  victim 
he  had  been  as  well,  mourning  for  years  the  loss 
of  wife  and  child.     What  answer   could  the  pastor 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  183 

make  ?  Should  he  forgive,  and  take  him  to  his  home 
to  see  the  wreck  and  hapless  ruin  of  the  one  he 
loved  ?  Or  should  he  nurse  a  cold  and  haughty 
spirit,  and  spurn  him  from  the  door  ?  "  Forgive,  as 
you  hope  to  be  forgiven,"  went  sounding  through 
the  pastor's  heart.  Unconsciously  his  head  fell  to 
the  level  of  his  hand,  and  a  low  prayer  went  up, 
A  shadow  came  between  the  pastor  and  the  fire. 

"  Pardon,  if  I  intrude.  I  rapped  three  times,  and 
ventured  to  come  in.  Blanche  is  glad  to  see  me." 
It  was  ,Seth  White. 

"And  so  am  I,"  replied  the  pastor,  rising  from  his 
chair.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  I  did  not  know  I  'd  been 
here  quite  so  long.  Tired  with  my  watch  at  Mabel's 
bedside,  with  letters  waiting  to  be  read,  I  came  in 
here.  The  sun  was  not  then  down,  and  now  'tis 
night." 

"I  hope  your  sister  is  better,"  and  tenderness  was 
in  the  full,  round  voice. 

"  I  left  her  sleeping  sweetly  as  a  child.  But  tell 
me  of  yourself  Our  evenings  have  been  broken  in 
upon,"  and  the  pastor  drew  Seth  to  a  chair  beside 
him. 

**  My  lessons  have  gone  on.  Sometimes  I  found 
it  hard ;  but  I  have  mastered  them.  I  come  to-night 
with  fewer  questions  than  I  used  to  bring.  I  knew 
that  illness  kept  your  eyes  awake,  and  chose  out 
one.     'Tis  clear,  and  still  it  puzzles  me,"  said  Seth. 

"  In  metaphysics  or  philosophy  ? "  asked  the 
pastor. 

**  Strictly,  it  belongs  to  neither.     It  is  a  question 


184  DO  WN  IV  A  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

of  expediency.  With  your  leave,  I  will  read  from 
a  letter  I  have  just  received  from  Cousin  Herbert." 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  he  wrote  to  me  a  week  ago.  'T  is  strange 
I  had  forgotten.  The  very  thing  for  you,  my  boy.  I 
told  him  so,"  returned  the  pastor. 

**  'Tis  easy  to  fall  in  with  advice  when  it  suits  our 
will.  I'm  glad  to  know  you  think  it  best.  Much 
as  I  wished,  I  dare  not  fully  trust  it  to  myself  'T  is 
hard  to  leave  my  mother  with  only  Lydia  to  lean 
upon." 

"  Your  mother  will  miss  you,  boy  ;  but  she  is  no 
woman  to  cry  out  with  pain  because  her  child  no 
longer  thrives  on  pap.  The  marble  in  the  quarry 
will  avail  the  builder  nothing.  It  must  be  taken  out, 
fitted  and  squared  and  polished  to  its  place.  Each 
has  his  niche,  and  God  expects  he  '11  fill  it.  What 
says  your  mother?  " 

"  She  said  it  bravely,  '  You  must  go.'  But  she 
could  not  hide  the  breaking  of  her  heart,  the  low, 
stifled  sob.  I  saw  it  all ;  and  had  you  said  you 
thought  it  best  for  me  to  stay,  in  sympathy  for  my 
mother's  loneliness,  I  could  have  yielded  it." 

"  'T  is  a  sweet  sorrow,  after  all,  mothers  are 
doomed  to  bear.  Manhood  is  heavier  than  thistle- 
down, and  every  step  it  gains  it  has  to  fight ;  and  if 
at  last  it  conquers,  't  is  by  right  of  principle,  firm 
and  unyielding.  Your  cousin  Herbert  knows  what 
it  is  to  struggle  up  through  difficulties  that  would 
have  overcome  a  weaker,  worldlier  nature." 

"  My  cousin   Herbert  is  so  far  above  me,  I  ha«'dlv 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  1 85 

dare  to  hope  to  look  upon  the  summit  he  will  gain. 
He  has  talent  far  beyond  the  generality." 

"  He  has  a  pure  principle  of  right  within  him. 
Based  on  this  firm  foundation,  he  is  sure  to  rise, 
like  some  tall  palm,  a  beacon  and  a  guide,"  said  the 
pastor. 

"  Herbert  is  good.  I  owe  him  more  than  I  can 
ever  pay,"  was  Seth's  reply. 

"  Selfishness  is  no  part  of  his  nature.  He  lives  to 
do  for  others, —  swaying  the  public  mind,  not  for  his 
own  pet  schemes,  but  to  raise  and  make  better  those 
with  whom  he  has  to  do.  The  good  such  men  do 
lives  after  them.  Did  Herbert  write  you  of  our 
summer  friends  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Hawley. 

"  You  knew  their  father  died  a  year  ago  ?  " 

"  I  heard  as  much." 

"And  their  wealth  vanished?"  continued  Seth. 

"  Mr.  Parton  wrote  me  of  this,"  returned  the  pastor. 

"  They  live  in  a  small  house.  Daisy  gives  music 
lessons,  and  Ellen  is  struggling  to  be  of  use." 

**Mr.  Delafieldleft  sons?"  questioned  Mr.  Hawley. 

"  Yes,  two,"  answered  Seth. 

The  tinkle  of  a  bell  caught  the  pastor's  ear. 

**  Mabel  is  awake.  When  do  you  propose  to 
leave  ?  " 

"  Within  a  month,"  returned  Seth. 

"  God   willing,  I   will   see  you   soon   again.      Do 
right.    Live  nobly,  Seth.    Manhood,  like  every  other 
gift  of  God,  comes  not  by  chance." 
16* 


CHAPTER  XX. 

EVIL    PURPOSES   AND    PLANS. 

IT  was  night :  a  heavy  cloud  of  blackness  shut  the 
world  in,  and  ominous  voices  in  tones  of  mut- 
tered thunder,  with  long,  deep  gushes  of  electric 
flame,  caused  stout  hearts  to  tremble.  The  wind 
swept  through  the  deserted  streets,  and  the  fiends  of 
air  seemed  hurrying  on  to  some  grand  carnival. 

Not  all  deserted.  Here  and  there  a  loiterer  at 
some  festal  board,  or  a  poor  staggering  wTetch  seek- 
ing his  cheerless  home.  Here,  one  creeping  along 
with  stealthy  tread,  thankful  for  night  and  darkness 
to  conceal  his  murderous  plans.  On  he  presses 
through  by-ways  and  alleys,  escaping  corners  where 
the  sentry  w^alks,  hugging  the  walls  like  some  vile 
reptile,  starting  at  every  sound.  Dark  and  grim  as 
the  night  it  loomed  before  him,  —  dark  walls,  dark 
wings,  and  something  on  the  top  like  a  huge  crown 
of  blackness  —  no  light,  no  sound  of  life,  the  win- 
dows closed  and  barred.  A  lightning  glance  from 
out  the  blackened  sky,  and  the  poor  wretch  sank 
back  against  the  wall  frightened  as  though  it  had 
been  the  eye  of  God.  Why  was  he  there  ?  and  how? 
and  his  limbs  trembled  while  his  brain  grew  wild. 
Should  he  go  back,  his  life  would  be  the  forfeit  of  his 

iS6 


D  O  WN  VVA  RD   A  ND    UP  VVA  R D.  1 87 

promise.  Should  he  go  on  ?  —  cold  damps  stood  on  his 
forehead,  his  limbs  gave  way,  he  groped  along  on  the 
mouldy  pavement.  There  was  a  muffled  tread,  then 
a  whistle  three  times  given,  the  bolts  slipped  back, 
and  through  a  crevice  in  the  door  he  saw  a  dark 
form  enter.  The  light  glancing  outward  thrilled 
him.  Had  he  been  seen  ?  and,  nerved  with  courage 
born  of  his  despair,  he  stood  upon  his  feet;  the 
whistle  three  times  three  was  repeated ;  the  door 
opened,  and  another  dark  form  entered. 

"  How  now !  you  are  late  coming.  We  began  to 
fear  you  had  given  us  the  slip,"  and  the  new  comer 
felt  the  hot  breath  of  his  interrogator,  as  he  drew 
him  to  the  light  and  scanned  his  face  closely. 

"You  have  nothing  to  fear;  I'm  with  you  hand 
in  glove.  But  prudence  is  as  good  as  valor.  I  could 
not  get  away  ;  and  but  for  this  storm,  I  had  not  come 
at  all." 

A  muttered  curse  escaped  the  mustached  lips, 
and  the  dark  eyes  flashed. 

"  Look  to  it,  if  you  prove  false." 

A  clap  of  thunder  shook  the  building  to  its  foun- 
dation, while  the  half  dozen  men  seated  around  the 
room  pressed  closer  to  their  leader. 

"Why  this  distrust?"  and  the  youth  shook  him- 
self from  the  strong  grasp.  "  I  have  more  to  lose 
than  you  have,  if  we  fail.  Your  life  is  well-nigh  spent 
I  have  my  youth,  and  the  sweet  memory  of  what  it 
was  to  me." 

"  That 's  it ;  that 's  what  I  fear.  Lapped  as  you  've 
been  in  luxury,  you  '11  faint  to  soil  your  fingers  with 


1 88  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D.     " 

the  toil  we  know,  and,  creeping  out  when  most 
there  's  actual  need,  give  us  the  slip." 

*'You  make  a  grand  mistake,"  and  flinging  off  his 
cap,  he  thrust  his  fingers  through  his  hair. 

"Teach  me  to  make  gold,  and  you  will  find  no 
better  pupil,"  continued  the  youth,  resolutely. 

A  demoniac  laugh  resounded  through  the  room, 
echoed  in  chorus  by  the  bearded  men  and  the  wild 
spirits  without. 

"  He 's  right ;  make  haste.  Teach  us  all  that. 
Gold!  gold!  But  stop!  are  we  agreed?  What  we 
make  we  share  alike?  and  if —  " 

"No  if's;  we  must  succeed.  Did  I  not  tell  you! 
Just  listen  to  the  thunder.  'T  is  a  good  night  to 
work.  Jardon  and  Stilling  will  keep  watch,  and 
despair  itself  is  not  darker  than  these  streets." 

"  Ho,  Winston  !   are  you  ready  ?  " 

A  light  stroke  upon  an  inner  door  disturbed  for  a 
moment  the  death-like  stillness  of  the  room,  but  pro- 
duced no  other  effect.  He  struck  again  louder,  and 
listened.  There  was  a  shuffling  sound,  a  woman's 
voice,  and  the  door  opened. 

This  room  was  not  as  long  as  the  outer  one,  with 
no  side  windows ;  and  if  the  sunlight  was  ever  per- 
mitted to  enter,  it  must  be  through  an  opening  above. 
A  large  table  stood  on  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and 
on  this  quantities  of  wire,  skeleton  keys,  dies,  gold 
leaf,  and  delicate  paper,  with  any  quantity  of  coins 
galvanized,  and  made  to  look  like  real  specie.  A 
furnace  filled  with  glowing  coal  stood  on  the  hearth, 
and  over  this  the  man  Winston. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  189 

"The  fates  are  propitious  to-night,"  said  the  youth, 
who,  from  being  suspected,  felt  that  he  must  make  an 
effort  to  prove  the  honesty  of  his  intentions. 

"  The  fates !  why,  boy,  we  make  or  mar  our  own 
fate.  The  power  's  in  us  :  only  have  the  grit.  Just 
look!  what  a  lovely  color.  A  bagful  for  each  will 
pay  us  well  for  this  little  job." 

"  That  it  will,"  responded  the  one  who  had  been 
spokesman  in  the  outer  room,  and  whom  the  men 
called  Crawford. 

"  What  think  you,  Delafield  ?  Gold  is  not  so  hard 
to  make  as  many  imagine,"  continued  Winston. 

"This  is  all  YQry  well,"  and  the  youth  took  up  a 
few  pieces,  twirled  them  in  his  fingers,  and  dropped 
them  on  the  table. 

"  If  you  could  only  give  them  the  ring." 

"  You  must  give  'em  that  yourself  If  I  stay  shut 
up  here  to  make  'em,  you've  got  to  see  that  they  go. 
So  many  a  day;  and,  mind  you,  the  real  thing  must 
come  in  at  night." 

"I'll  do  it;  but  the  paper,  you  know,  is  a  great 
deal  easier  to  get  off  Somehow,  folks  understand  to 
a  hair  when  coin  falls  short." 

"  I  never  saw  a  prettier  bit  of  paper  than  that  five 
hundred  you  drew  the  other  night,"  said  Crawford. 

"  And  I  was  rid  of  it  easily.  There  was  a  little 
twinge  as  the  man  held  it  up,  rubbing  it  between  his 
thumb  and  finger.  I  turned  away,  and  tried  to  feel 
indifferent ;  but  I  tell  you  it  was  a  great  relief  when 
he  pocketed  it,"  answered  Delafield. 


igO  D  O  WN IV A  A'  n   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

"That's  because  you're  a  fresh  hand.  When 
you  've  been  at  it  for  a  time,  it  will  come  easy,"  re- 
turned Winston. 

"  Delafield  knows  little  of  the  rough  and  tumble 
of  life,"  and  Crawford  slapped  the  young  man  famil- 
iarly on  the  shoulder. 

"  The  very  reason  that  I  am  with  you.  You  bet- 
ter believe  a  robin  dropped  out  of  his  nest  feels  the 
ground  cold  and  dreary.  You  cannot  suppose  that 
he  would  scruple  about  means  to  get  back  again." 

"  Worse  than  that,"  joined  in  one  of  the  men. 
"  Not  alone  to  tumble  out  of  the  nest,  but  to  have  it 
swung  before  him  constantly.  It 's  enough  to  drive 
a  man  to  anything." 

"  Here,  Madge !  bring  us  the  grub,"  cried  one. 
"  What  the  deuce  of  a  turnout  there  is  to-night ;  it  is 
impossible  to  hear  anything  for  the  confounded 
thunder.  Madge  !  Madge  !  Where  is  she,  Winston  ? 
I  '11  be  bound  she  was  here  when  we  entered." 

*'  If  she  was,  she's  too  wise  to  let  you  set  eyes 
upon  her.  Open  that  little  closet,  and  help  yourself 
It's  a  pity  you  can't  find  something  else  to  do  than 
to  guzzle  down  your  throats,  while  I  am  broiling 
over  this  fire." 

"  Here  's  to  your  health  and  the  beauties  that  you 
deal  in,"  and  Crawford  raised  his  glass.  A  tinkling 
sound  went  round  the  table. 

"  Fill  up  !  fill  up  !  "  cried  another. 

"Success  to  our  undertaking,"  exclaimed  a  third, 
and  the  glasses  were  lifted  as  before. 

"Now  to  his  grace  for  his  agency  in  getting  up 


DOWNWAJ^D   AND    UPWARD.  I9I 

such  a  storm,"  and  another  bumper  was  drained 
easily. 

"  Enough  for  the  present,  gentlemen,"  and  Win- 
ston straightened  himself. 

"  I  have  never  seen  neater  work.  It 's  sure  to  suc- 
ceed, and  if  it  does"  —  while  a  fierce  smile  played 
over  the  blackened  face. 

"  As  soon  as  we  get  enough,  we  must  be  off  to 
the  distant  cities.  Perfect  as  it  is,  caution  will  be 
necessary.  To  be  discovered  too  soon  would  spoil 
all,"  exclaimed  Crawford. 

"To  be  discovered  at  all,"  exclaimed  Delafield. 

"  It 's  plain  enough  to  see  that  you  are  a  raw  hand. 
With  pockets  full  of  the  real  stuff,  we  must  be  off  for 
Europe,  Madagascar,  or  somewhere  else,  just  for  a 
few  years,  you  know,  and  then  back  to  do  as  we  will. 
Only  have  a  heart,  boy,  and  it  will  all  conie  back  to 
you," 

There  was  a  fiendish  smile  on  Winston's  lips  and  a 
wild  light  in  his  eyes.  Years  of  playing  bopeep  be- 
tween government  officials,  and  his  own  questionable 
acts,  had  rendered  him  cautious ;  and  still  did  he 
never  hesitate,  when  occasion  offered,  to  carry  out 
his  plans,  assuring  himself  that  it  was  practical  and 
sure  to  succeed.  A  philosopher  in  one  sense.  True, 
the  law  had  pounced  upon  him  more  than  once, 
curbing  his  ambition  for  a  specified  time  :  he  bore  it 
patiently,  and  when  the  restraint  was  removed,  tried 
again,  sure,  if  he  kept  on,  of  final  success.  The  fur- 
nace glow  was  failing  and  the  battery  was  no  longer 
in  motion  :  some  of  the  men  were  dozing  in  chairs, 


192  DOIVNIVARD   AND    UPWARD. 

and  others  were  seated  on  the  table,  while  Winston 
and  Crawford  planned. 

"  No  two  must  be  seen  together.  And  if,  by- 
chance,  it  should  happen,  let  there  be  no  word  or 
look  of  recognition." 

"  There  is  another  thing  of  more  consequence  to 
our  future,"  said  Crawford.  **  It  is  possible  that,  in 
passing  money,  one  may  be  discovered.  Let  us  bind 
ourselves  by  an  oath  to  suffer  alone,  if  need  be  ;  but 
on  no  account  to  betray  one  another.  In  this  way 
the  money  making  can  still  go  on,  and  the  hounds 
set  to  scent  us  out  none  the  wiser." 

"Another  bottle!"  cried  Winston;  and  all  pledged 
themselves  to  act  with  prudence,  and,  if  discovered, 
to  bear  the  burden  as  individuals ;  and  never,  by 
word  or  look,  to  recognize  each  other  in  the  presence 
of  a  third  party. 

In  the  weird  light,  the  haggard  faces,  shaggy  eye- 
brows, and  tangled  mass  of  coal-black  hair  con- 
trasted strongly  with  the  well-turned  head  and  high, 
white  forehead  of  young  Delafield,  —  like  fiends 
escaped  from  dark  despair,  their  stake  a  soul. 

"  Hark  !  there's  a  sound,"  and  Winston's  quick  ear 
had  caught  at  something  in  the  street. 

"  Quick,  men,  to  the  side  door!  " 

"  No  occasion  for  alarm,"  and  Jordan  entered. 

"The  storm  is  spent,  and  day  begins  to  break. 
It 's  time  to  fill  our  pockets  and  be  off." 

"  You  are  sure  there  's  no  one  at  the  door  ?  "  ques- 
tioned Winston. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  I93 

"Sure,  your  honor;  and  now  be  generous.  To 
wait  is  quite  as  honorable  as  to  work." 

"  Cloaking  yourself  with  honor !  Well,  well ;  there 's 
no  denying  honor  is  what  we  make  it."  And  Win- 
ston laughed,  and  passed  the  bottle  to  his  neighbor's 
lips. 

''Where's  Stilling?  He  has  earned  the  right  to 
wet  his  throat." 

"  Make  haste ;  the  daylight  will  be  here  !  "  roared 
Crawford. 

"  Now  let  the  police  come.  There's  nothing  but  a 
furnace  of  spent  coal,  a  woman's  gown  and  shawl. 
All  is  not  gold  that  glitters.  But  what  difference,  if 
the  people  find  not  their  mistake  ?  With  well-filled 
pockets,  let  us  do  our  best ;  and  as  the  clock  strikes 
twelve  at  night,  meet  here  again."  And  Winston 
pulled  his  hat  over  his  bloodshot  eyes. 

The  dawn  was  breaking  when  Jay  Delafield  sought 
his  room.  Noiseless,  as  he  thought,  his  steps  did 
not  escape  his  mother's  ear,  touching  her  heart  with 
a  keen  sense  of  pain. 

i;  N 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  BURDEN  OF  A  GREAT  SORROW. 

SHRILL  November  winds  were  rushing  up  the 
street,  whirHng  the  dust  in  clouds,  and  dancing 
dead  leaves  against  the  window-panes.  A  dreary 
homesickness  was  in  the  air;  the  birds  forgot  to 
sing,  balancing  themselves,  and  drawing  up  their  feet 
beneath  their  wings.  Dogs  and  men  were  walking 
in  the  streets ;  no  useless  jostling  after  the  sunny 
side.  Conflict  without  and  a  hard  warfare  within, 
the  good  and  evil  forces  all  called  out. 

Drawing  her  chair  still  closer  to  the  grate,  Mrs. 
Delafield  stitched  with  redoubled  ardor.  Ellen  was 
getting  to  be  so  tall;  and  the  mother  was  fashioning 
a  dress  Agnes  had  laid  aside.  It  was  a  new  task, 
and  her  fingers  trembled.  Suddenly  she  stopped, 
and  the  tears  rained  down  her  pallid  face.  Through 
all  the  summer  days  she  had  borne  the  change  brave- 
ly. Leaving  her  home  had  cost  her  fewer  pangs 
than  the  sad  thought  that  her  children  had  outgrown 
their  love,  wandering  away,  and  making  sad  mis- 
takes. Stripped  of  the  glittering  forms  that  bound 
her  to  the  life  that  others  knew,  the  scales  had  fallen 
from  her  eyes.     She  saw  that  principle  must  be  the 

194 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  I95 

ground-work  of  each  act,  and  she  felt  the  need  of 
something  on  which  to  fix  her  hopes  more  lasting 
than  she  had  ever  known. 

A  month  ago  Agnes  was  with  her.  She  came  to 
stay,  she  said.  A  week  had  barely  passed  when  her 
trunks  were  packed. 

"  Such  little,  pent-up  rooms!  "  exclaimed  the  child. 
"  I  do  not  believe  it  was  so  bad  as  you  were  led  to 
think ;  and  if  it  was,  we  might  have  kept  the  house. 
My  father's  creditors  were  no  better  than  other 
men." 

"  But  your  father  was,"  returned  the  mother. 

"  I  don't  believe  he  lost  it  all ;  I  never  will !"  said 
Agnes. 

"  His  bills  were  heavy ;  heavier  than  you  know. 
It  was  the  burden  of  his  life  for  months  before  he 
died,"  was  the  trembling  response. 

*' A  peg  convenient  on  which  to  hang  his  whims. 
We  spent  too  much,"  said  Agnes,  in  a  pettish  tone. 

*'  Your  father,  child,  deserved  your  warmest  love. 
His  error  was  in  loving  all  too  much." 

Sitting  in  the  shadowy  light,  it  all  came  back  to 
the  mother's  heart.  Agnes  had  gone.  Cyrus  had 
quarrelled  with  a  fellow-clerk,  and,  joining  a  band  of 
travelling  play-actors,  had  left  the  town. 

Light  steps  and  pleasant  voices  were  in  the  hall. 
"You  have  been  lonely,  mother,"  and  a  small  arm 
stole  around  the  mother's  neck,  a  kiss  was  on  her 
forehead. 

*'  A  little  tired,  perhaps,"  and  there  was  a  sense  of 
sorrow  in  the  words  that  touched  Ellen's  heart. 


196  DOWNWA  RD   AND    UPWARD. 

"  We  waited  for  Jay,"  and  Daisy  stood  on  the 
rug,  and  held  her  hands  to  the  cheerful  blaze. 

"  It  has  been  a  chilly  day;  but,  for  some  reason,  I 
feel  better  than  for  weeks  before,  I  am  in  love  with 
stormy  days  and  black,  tempestuous  nights.  I  can 
work  better,"  and  Jay  rubbed  his  hands,  and  looked 
with  a  pleasant  smile  upon  the  inmates  of  the  little 
room. 

"  And  now,  Barbara,  let  us  have  tea,"  said  Daisy, 
as  the  small  maiden  placed  the  lamp,  and  put  fresh 
coal  upon  the  grate. 

"  I  was  out  on  an  errand,  miss,  or  it  would  have 
looked  cheerfuUer  when  you  came  in." 

**  We  will  make  it  cheerful  now,  Barbara,"  and 
Daisy's  voice  was  gushing  with  the  joy  of  having 
Jay  at  home.  With  a  quick  eye,  she  saw  the  struggle 
in  the  mother's  heart,  and  branching  off  into  what 
she  had  seen  and  heard,  she  soon  won  both  smiles 
and  laughter. 

At  the  tea-table,  Jay  was  unusually  lively,  his 
words  sparkling  with  wit  and  humor.  It  was  a  new 
phase,  and  the  mother's  heart  vibrated  between 
fear  and  hope.  Through  the  long  summer  days  he 
had  been  fitful  and  melancholy,  at  times  endeavoring 
to  settle  himself  to  business,  determined  to  over- 
come the  thirst  for  drink;  the  next,  unnerved  and 
disquieted,  by  reason  of  drudgery  that  confined 
him  when  others  were  free  to  come  and  go  as  they 
pleased. 

"  I  have  a  plan  by  which  I  can  get  it  all  back,"  he 


L>  O  WN  WARD  A ND    UP  WA  RD.  I97 

said  to  Ellen,  as  a  name  was  spoken  that  recalled  the 
past. 

''  How  is  that  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Delafield.  "  You  are 
not  speculating,  Jay?" 

*'  Would  that  be  so  very  dreadful,  mother  ?  "  and  a 
red  flush  crept  up  to  Jay's  white  brow. 

"  Your  father  never  favored  it.  Especially  if  one 
has  limited  capital." 

"The  very  one  I  should  think  to  try,"  returned 
Jay. 

i  **  Staking  his  all,  and,  if  he  loses,  losing  all. 
Honest  gains  are  slow.  Be  satisfied  with  these,  my 
son." 

"  I  am  sure  my  gains  are  slow  enough,"  and  a  wild 
laugh  resounded  through  the  room. 

'*  You  have  not  told  us  of  your  plan,"  continued 
Mrs.  Delafield. 

"  Oh,  it  is  as  Daisy  says, —  to  keep  to  work.  She  is 
to  be  a  prima  donna  some  day;  go  to  Germany  and 
give  concerts ;  and  I  expect  to  get  piles  of  gold,  and 
not  only  buy  back  what  we  have  lost,  but  as  much 
more." 

*  "  Would  n't  it  be  a  fine  thing  if  we  could  make 
gold,"  exclaimed  Ellen.  "  I  would  not  only  have 
some  for  myself,  but  there  are  plenty  of  others  who 
need  it  as  much  as  I  do." 

"  I  hardly  know  what  we  need  more  than  we  have. 
If  there  is   not   as   much   silver  and  glass  as  there 
used  to  be,  the  bread  is  just  as  white,  and  the  butter 
equally  good,"  said  Daisy,  merrily. 
17* 


198  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

"  Bread  and  butter  do  not  satisfy,"  said  Jay.  "  It 
is  one  thing  never  to  have,  and  another  thing  to  do 
without." 

"  You  mean  by  that,  to  one  who  had  never  had 
better,  this  small  home  would  be  beautiful  ?  "  asked 
Daisy. 

"  Certainly.  Habits  and  customs  of  life  make  all 
the  difference.  We  like,  and  must  have,  what  we  have 
been  accustomed  to,  or  we  are  unhappy,"  replied 
Jay. 

'*  Our  habits  may  have  been  wrong,  our  tastes  not 
in  keeping.  There  comes  a  time  when  these  are  to 
be  corrected.  It  may  be  felt  for  a  season,  but  the 
very  struggle  to  overcome  more  than  repays  us  in 
the  strength  we  gain,"  said  Mrs.  Delafield. 

"  I  have  not  realized  much  strength  yet,  and  I  have 
tried,"  was  Jay's  reply. 

'*  Oaks  do  not  grow  in  a  day.  A  strong,  perma- 
nent growth  is  almost  imperceptible,"  rejoined  Mrs. 
Delafield. 

"  I  trust  mine  will  be  permanent,  for  I  can  hardly 
see  it,"  and  Jay  pushed  back  his  chair.  "  You  will 
excuse  me.  I  have  two  or  three  engagements, 
and  to  be  back  in  any  kind  of  season,  I  must  hurry 
away." 

"Oh,  no.  Jay;  stay  with  us,"  and  Ellen  tried  to 
detain  her  brother. 

"Yes,  Jay;  it  is  a  longtime  since  we  have  had 
any  music.  I  long  to  hear  your  voice  again,"  and 
Daisy  hastened  to  help  Barbara  with  the  table. 

"  Stay,  my  son,  if  possible.     I  hardly  know  why, 


D  0  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  RD.  199 

but  I  have  been  sad  to-day;  and  music,  as  Daisy  says,- 
will  help  us  all." 

*'  I  have  promised  to  be  at  three  places.  '  You  see 
that  I  am  getting  to  be  a  business  man." 

"  When  Cyrus  was  here,  I  did  not  so  much  mind 
if  one  was  away;  but  now — "  and  Mrs.  Delafield 
was  fairly  weeping. 

"  Don't  fret  over  it,  mother.  When  I  get  every- 
thing arranged,  I  will  be  as  steady  as  you  can  ask," 
and  Jay  leaned  over  his  mother's  chair  and  kissed 
the  pale  cheeks  tenderly. 

With  all  his  faults.  Jay  was  kind  and  affection- 
ate. He  would  not  wantonly  have  injured  a  worm  ; 
but  he  loved  to  indulge  himself,  and  he  despised  re- 
straint. To  confine  himself  to  the  dull  round  of 
every-day  life  was  intolerable.  In  a  word.  Jay  lacked 
moral  principle. 

Persuasion  did  no  good;  and  as  the  door  closed  on 

the  young   man,  keen   anguish  stung  the  mother's 

heart.     What  were  his  engagements  ?     What  plans 

had  he?     How   did   he  think  to  realize  a  fortune? 

,  Where  had  he  gone  ? 

"Ellen  is  to  read,  and  you  are  to  listen,"  Daisy 
said,  playfully,  to  Mrs.  Delafield. 

"And  what  is  your  part?  "  asked  the  mother. 

"  I  am  to  finish  this  dress,"  taking  the  work  on 
which  Mrs.  Delafield  had  been  employed. 

"I  will  knit,"  replied  the  mother.  "And  as  for 
the  dress,  I  fear  you  cannot  do  it." 

"  Let  me  try,  please,"  and  there  was  vivacity  in 


200  DOWN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

Daisy's  voice,  that  helped  materially  to  free  the 
brain  from  shadowy  forebodings. 

When  Ellen  laid  aside  her  book,  the  dress  was  done. 

"  Now  for  a  little  music,"  and  Daisy  shook  out  the 
dress,  and  held  it  up  to  Ellen. 

"  There  is  one  drawback  to  lesson  giving,  and  that 
is  a  gradual  decrease  in  enthusiasm,  at  least  I  find  it 
so  in  my  case.  Listening  to  pupils,  correcting  mis- 
takes, and  constantly  saying  '  mind  your  time,  and 
count  one,  two,  three,'  is  sure  to  disgust  the  musical 
goddess,  and  the  ear  is  no  longer  caught  and  the 
heart  entertained  with  airs  of  angelic  sweetness,"  said 
Daisy. 

"  Give  us  old  songs,"  said  Mrs.  Delafield. 

Daisy  was  in  one  of  her  musical  moods,  her  voice 
rightly  keyed,  with  just  enough  sadness  in  her  heart 
to  give  it  that  peculiar  tone,  sure  to  touch  and  thrill 
a  soul  that  has  suffered.  Good  music  is  always  sad, — 
blending  sorrow  and  joy,  mingling  and  melting,  and 
running  into  a  perpetual  plaint  for  something  higher, 
holier,  than  we  find  on  earth. 

To  Mrs.  Delafield's  sick  heart  it  was  a  comfort ; 
and  leaning  her  head  against  her  chair,  she  listened 
to  the  sweet  inspiration,  now  low,  sweet,  plaintive, 
then  louder,  bolder,  lifting  the  soul  up  and  filling  it 
with  rest. 

A  low  rap  at  the  parlor-door. 

"  I  am  just  in  time,"  and  Herbert  Lyndsey  entered. 

"  You  are  very  welcome,"  as  Mrs.  Delafield  rose 
to  receive  him.  "  One  of  our  petite  soirees,  with 
only  myself  for  listener." 


D  O  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  201 

"A  select  audience.  Allow  me  to  join  you,"  was 
the  pleasant  reply. 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Lyndsey,  we  are  in  want  of  a  tenor; 
you  will  not  refuse  ? "  and  Daisy  turned  to  the  in- 
strument. 

"  In  that  case  we  shall  bring  down  the  house.  As 
yet,  we  have  not  had  a  single  bravo/'  remarked 
Ellen. 

"  I  had  forgotten,"  and  Mrs.  Delafield  was  laugh- 
ing now,  ''  that  applause  inspires  and  invigorates  the 
artiste.  You  should  have  said  to  me,  as  Sir  Godfrey 
said  to  the  little  poet  of  Twickenham,  'You  know  I 
can't  do  as  well  as  I  should,  unless  you  praise  me.' 
Go  on  ;  I  promise  the  bravos." 

Mr.  Lyndsey  knew  how  to  sing,  just  as  he  knew 
how  to  read  and  how  to  study.  Endowed  with  a 
voice,  he  had  cultivated  it,  making  it  the  messenger 
of  his  thought. 

Old  songs  Mrs.  Delafield  had  requested;  and  still 
was  she  conscious  of  that  mystic  power, —  each  strain 
only  the  echo  of  a  voice  heard  long  ago,  visions  of 
what  had  been,  and  sleeping  memories  awakened 
by  every  song  they  sang.  Touchingly  tender,  and 
her  eyes  grow  misty ;  —  the  very  song  that  she  used 
to  sing ;  her  husband  was  fond  of  it.  Was  it  strange 
that  she  forgot  the  bravos,  forgot  everything  —  save 
what  had  been  ? 

"  I  have  brought  you  something  quite  new.  You 
must  try  it,"  and  Mr.  Lyndsey  unrolled  a  sheet  of 
music.  "  I  heard  it  once,  and  thought  it  beautiful," 
as  he  placed  it  on  the  stand. 


202  D  O  WN  WA  R  D   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

**  I  can  hardly  hope  to  please  where  another  has 
charmed,"  and  Daisy  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys. 

**  I  am  one  to  enjoy  the  second  act  better  than 
the  first,"  Mr.  Lyndsey  replied,  as  he  turned  the 
page 

The  clock  was  striking  in  the  church-tower  as  the 
music  ceased. 

"  I  have  one  regret,"  was  said  naively,  as  Daisy  left 
the  piano,  and  her  guest  seated  himself  with  the  au- 
dience.   "  It  is  too  late  for  my  budget  of  news." 

"  I  can  only  say  that  I  have  been  to  Tipton,  saw 
I\Irs.  White,  and  Seth,  and  Lydia,  and  good  Mr. 
Hawley.  On  leaving,  they  freighted  me  with  so 
much  love  and  esteem  for  certain  young  ladies  of  my 
acquaintance,  that  I  was  forced  to  throw  aside  the 
weight  before  I  could  return  to  business,"  returned 
Mr.  Lyndsey. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  from  them.  And  Seth  is  still 
at  home?"  and  Ellen  ran  on  with  questions,  while 
Daisy's  face  grew  white  in  listening. 

"  Seth  is  no  longer  at  home.  He  is  now  at  the 
Belden  Institute,  teaching  and  studying  in  the  place 
of  working  and  studying,  as  he  has  been  doing, 
Lydia  bids  fair  to  make  a  beautiful  woman.  I  used  to 
think  her  plain  ;  she  has  improved  astonishingly," 
continued  Mr.  Lyndsey. 

"Did  you  spend  any  time  with  Mr.  Hawley? 
Did  he  speak  of  his  sister?"  questioned  Daisy. 

"I  spent  an  hour  with  Mr.  Hawley.  He  has  grown 
old  rapidly  within  the  last  year.  Expressed  himself 
as  quite  well,  however.     His  sister  has  been  very  ill. 


D  OWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  203 

She  is  now  better,  and  there  are  intervals  when  she 
is  perfectly  herself,"  was  the  reply. 

Try  as  she  would,  Daisy  could  not  keep  back  the 
tears;  she  had  unconsciously  thought  so  much  of 
the  woman,  the  sad,  pale  face  continually  rising  up 
before  her. 

Mr.  Lyndsey  had  gone,  and,  clinging  to  each 
other,  the  three  sat  looking  into  the  spent  fire.  It 
was  pleasant  to  be  remembered  by  one  whom  they 
used  to  know, —  one  who  did  not  pass  them  by  be- 
cause they  no  longer  had  the  means  to  live  expen- 
sively. Silent  and  still,  the  fading  embers  reproduced 
pictures  in  keeping  with  the  thoughts  of  each.  In- 
stinctively, Mrs.  Delafield  mused  of  Jay  and  Cyrus. 
Where  were  they?  and  what  doing  ?  She  remembers 
Seth  White.  A  life  of  toil  had  been  his  from  the 
cradle  ;  gradually  he  was  mounting  upward.  Never 
an  idle  moment  had  he  known,  never  a  pleasure, — 
as  Cyrus  would  call  it,  climbing  the  cold,  hard  stairs 
of  necessity. 

Mrs.  Delafield  saw  this  in  the  dying  fire.  She  did 
not  always  see  it.  Daisy  and  Ellen  saw  ;  but  they 
did  not  say  what.  Let  it  be  as  it  would,  each  knew 
that  she  would  be  happier  for  this  evening. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

BRAVING   THE    LAW. 

IT  was  the  last  of  the  sweet  Indian  summer  days ; 
a  silvery  haze,  deepening  to  purple  gloom,  floated 
midway  between  the  earth  and  sky.  Languor  was 
in  the  air;  the  butterfly,  with  curiously-mottled  wings 
of  black  and  gold,  poised  dreamily,  brushing  the 
glittering  dust  against  the  leafless  stems.  The  din 
of  labor  and  the  roll  of  wheels  was  tempered  to  a 
soft  and  mellow  sound,  and  the  street-goers  gliding 
by  seemed  as  unreal  as  the  broken  fragments  of  a 
dream.  As  the  sun  went  down,  a  lustrous  gleam 
shot  through  the  purple  curtain,  changing  it  to  a 
cloth  of  gold. 

No  sound  disturbed  the  silence  of  the  room  where 
Daisy,  by  the  low  window,  sat  and  dreamed.  All 
day  her  lessons  had  been  given,  her  pupils  tasking 
her  time,  **  one,  two,  three,"  clear  and  distinct. 
Another  day  is  added  to  the  list,  and  for  a  few  mo- 
ments she  is  free  to  tangle  her  brain  in  "  idle  vaga- 
ries." Be  it  so ;  it  rests  her  for  to-morrow's  work. 
Ellen  has  gone  to  Mrs.  Clayton's.  Grant  is  in  Dr. 
Landseer's  office.  The  new  home  is  farther  from 
the  doctor's  residence ;  they  do  not  see  him  as  often 
as   they  did.    And  to-day,   tempted   by   the   untold 

204 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  20$ 

beauty  everywhere    afloat,  he    has    prevailed  upon 
Mrs.  Delafield  to  join  him  in  a  ride, 

"The  air  will  do  you  good;  and  I  can  talk  and 
drive,  and  so  save  time ;  "  and  Mrs.  Delafield,  know- 
ing him  for  a  friend,  went  gladly;  and  thus,  save 
Barbara,  busy  with  the  thought  of  the  good  supper 
she  will  get,  Daisy  is  by  herself  Such  hours  have 
not  been  frequent;  busied  from  morning  until  night, 
there  has  been  little  time  for  idleness.  The  mood  is 
on  her  now,  and,  leaning  her  head  upon  the  window- 
sill,  she  feels  the  play  of  the  soft  air  on  brow  and 
cheek,  tangling  the  meshes  of  her  hair  till  she  almost 
fancies  it  is  the  touch  of  human  fingers.  Once  more 
she  sees  the  small  dress,  the  tiny  pair  of  half-worn 
shoes.  Mr.  Hawley  has  never  told  her  how  they 
were  received.  "  Thanks  for  the  package  "  was  all 
he  said.  She  knew  not  why,  and  still  she  had  looked 
for  more.  There  was  no  resemblance.  Mrs.  Lisle's 
sorrow  made  her  think  of  what  her  own  mother's 
must  have  been.  It  was  a  strange  idea,  no  doubt ; 
but,  gathering  up  the  broken  threads  let  fall  by  Mr. 
Delafield  years  ago,  and  still  more  by  the  words 
flung  out  when  children  at  their  play,  she  had  never 
thought  of  her  mother  as  being  dead.  She  could  not 
now.  Somewhere  in  the  world  there  was  a  heart 
that  beat  and  throbbed  under  a  great  loss  —  a  heart 
that  lived  and  loved  and  prayed  for  her.  It  was  this 
hope,  as  well  as  knowing  that  He  doeth  well,  that 
kept  her  life  in  poise.  The  seed  sown  by  a  faithful 
teacher  had  taken  root ;  and,  although  of  slow 
growth,  as  usual  with  unsheltered  plants,  there  were 
18 


206  D  O  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R D. 

Still  vitality  and  bloom.  "  He  knoweth  the  path,  and 
His  hand  will  guide;"  and,  insensibly,  she  thought 
of  the  evening  at  school,  when,  sitting  in  her  room, 
the  teacher  spoke  of  her  own  youthful  experience : 
"  I  know  what  it  is  to  hunger  for  a  mother's  love. 
My  father  was  a  man  devoted  to  business.  He  had 
not  time  to  think  of  me,  farther  than  to  provide 
for  my  outward  need.  When  very  young,  I  was 
placed  at  school,  and  when  I  left  it  as  a  pupil,  it  was 
only  to- take  upon  myself  the  office  of  teacher.  Led 
by  an  irresistible  hand,  in  a  way  not  of  my,  own 
choosing,  and  dependent  at  every  step  for  guidance, 
often  has  it  been  sinuous,  and  its  corners  and  angles 
have  been  perplexing.  Sometimes  on  the  mountain 
top,  then  treading  the  valley.  It  has  ever  been  nar- 
row, skirted  on  each  side  with  thorn  hedges,  sting- 
ing my  flesh  if  I  turned  wearily.  Never  have  I  been 
able  to  see  but  one  step  at  a  time,  and  when  that  was 
taken  light  was  given  for  another.  Of  necessity,  my 
steps  have  been  slow,  giving  me  time  to  think  and 
to  ask  for  needful  direction.  Sometimes,  urged  for- 
ward by  an  irresistible  force,  I  have  tried  to  obey, 
raising  my  foot  and  setting  it  down,  led  by  the  voice, 
and  finding  in  every  case  something  to  lean  upon. 
Thus  have  I  made  my  way ;  never  able  to  do  more 
than  present  duty,  leaning  more  and  more  upon  my 
guide.  This  you  must  do."  With  the  play  of  the 
wind  upon  her  cheek,  Daisy  almost  feels  it  is  her 
teacher's  kiss.  "  Had  I  foreseen  the  roughness  of 
the  way,  I  should  have  been  dismayed,  and  my  cour- 
age would  have  failed,"  and  thus,  learning  wisdom 


D  O  WNWA  RD  A  ND    UP  WARD.  20/ 

from  the  experience  of  another,  the  faint  heart  was 
strengthened. 

The  shadows  were  deepening  and  the  air  grew 
chill.  Daisy  lifted  her  head  and  closed  the  window, 
drawing  the  curtain  tightly. 

Through  the  half  light,  Daisy  did  not  see  that 
some  one  entered  the  door.  A  long,  deep  sigh,  and 
she  turned  to  see  Jay  standing  on  the  rug  before  the 
fire. 

"  Are  you  ill  ?  Pray  tell  me  what  has  happened  ?  " 
asked  Daisy,  as  she  looked  into  the  white  face. 

"  Hush  !  they  are  after  me.  I  must  go  as  soon  as 
it  is  quite  dark,"  whispered  Jay. 

A  terrible  suspicion  crossed  her  mind.  Could  it 
be  that  Jay -was  again  suffering  the  horrors  that  he 
had  before  known  ?  She  pressed  very  near  him.  No; 
it  must  be  something  else. 

"  Tell  me.  Jay,  what  has  happened  ?  " 

''  To  tell  the  truth,  I  have  been  making  gold.  A 
few  days  since  I  had  the  ill  fortune  to  pass  it  to  a 
man  who  knew  the  difference,  and  he  is  after  me. 
I  could  not  bear  to  work  day  after  day:  I  determined 
to  have  it  back.  They  told  me  of  a  plan  that  others 
had  tried  and  made  their  thousands,"  answered  Jay. 

This  was  the  plan;  and  by  coining  and  passing  a 
spurious  article.  Jay  hoped  to  get  all  back,  as  he 
said. 

A  cold  shudder  passed  over  Daisy's  face,  and  her 
limbs  trembled. 

*'  And  if  they  find  you,  Jay  ?  " 

"  Imprisonment,  of  course.    But  I  will  not  be  taken. 


208  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

I  will  die  first.  You  must  secrete  me.  Quick,  Daisy ! 
I  hear  voices.     They  are  here !  " 

"  Only  Barbara  that  I  hear,"  and  Daisy  made  an 
effort  to  speak  calmly. 

"  But  she  must  not  see  me.  If  she  is  questioned, 
she  must  know  nothing,"  continued  Jay. 

"  Is  there  no  other  way.    Is  it  really  as  you  say?  " 

"  It  is  indeed,  Daisy.  The  other  day  I  passed  a 
five-hundred-dollar  bill.  It  was  not  detected ;  but 
the  small  coin  will  bring  it  out.  If  I  can  escape  be- 
fore they  have  time  to  look  it  up,  well ;  if  not,  I 
shall  be  imprisoned." 

"  O  Jay,  it  will  kill  your  mother ! "  exclaimed 
Daisy. 

A  sigh  broke  over  the  quivering  lips. 

"  It  was  as  much  on  her  account  as  on  my  own 
that  I  did  it.  I  could  not  bear  to  see  her  give  up 
everything  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed.  I 
felt  it  would  be  a  proud  moment  when  I  could  rein- 
state her  in  the  old  home,  and  you  and  Ellen.  It 
has  been  a  comfort  to  me  through  all  these  weeks, 
and  now  it's  ended,"  said  Jay,  despairingly. 

Pity  filled  Daisy's  heart.  What  would  she  not 
give  at  that  moment  to  save  him  from  the  stain  of 
sin  and  wrong.  His  white  face  and  trembling 
voice :  she  could  forgive  him ;  but  the  law  would 
not. 

There  was  a  sound  of  wheels,  and  Dr.  Landseer's 
buggy  was  at  the  door. 

"  It  is  your  mother.  The  doctor  will  not  come  in," 
Daisy  said. 


IJOW\'WARD  AND    UPWARD.  209 

"  I  cannot  see  her.     Let  me  go,  Di." 

"Up  to  my  room,  and  turn  the  key:  I  will  keep 
watch,"  answered  Daisy. 

"  Do  not  tell  mother.  Let  her  sleep  one  night  in 
peace.  And  Ellen  —  no.  I  must  not  see  her,"  re- 
turned Jay. 

Jay  had  barely  left  the  room  as  Mrs.  Delafield  en- 
tered. Dr.  Landseer  did  not  come  in.  Fortunately,  it 
was  too  dark  for  Mrs.  Delafield  to  see  the  expression 
of  Daisy's  face,  and  with  accustomed  tact  she  began 
questioning  of  the  ride,  thereby  gi^^ing  herself  time 
to  recover  from  the  effect  of  Jay's  sudden  visit. 

When  Ellen  returned.  Grant  Clayton  was  with  her. 
With  effort  Daisy  could  command  herself,  while  her 
flushed  cheeks  and  glistening  eyes  drew  the  attention 
of  the  young  student. 

**  No,  not  ill,"  she  said,  in  answer  to  his  kind  in- 
quiry. "  I  have  been  giving  lessons  all  day ;  a  little 
tired,  perhaps." 

"You  confine  yourself  too  closely.  I  will  propose 
that  Dr.  Landseer  take  you  out  occasionally." 

**  I  have  not  much  spare  time,"  was  said  vaguely. 

It  was  over.  Grant  had  gone ;  tears  rolled  down 
Daisy's  face.  She  knew  that  he  had  little  time,  and 
visits  were  not  of  everyday  occurrence.  She  was 
afraid  that  he  felt  wounded.  He  could  not  under- 
stand how  she  suffered. 

Twice  Barbara  had  rung  the  bell.     Mrs.  Delafield 
would  not  take  supper  till  Jay  came.    Daisy  endeav- 
ored to  look  unconcerned.     All  at  once  she  called 
to  mind  that  Jay  had  said  in  the  morning  that  he 
18*  O 


210  £>  O  IFA'JVAJ^n  AND    UPWARD. 

might  not  return  until  late  at  night.  The  mother's 
face  lost  the  cheerful  look  her  ride  had  called  forth ; 
mechanically  she  seated  herself  at  the  tea-table. 
There  were  few  words,  an  unusual  restraint  seemed 
to  be  upon  each. 

After  tea,  Mrs.  Delafield  remarked : 

"'  The  doctor  has  heard  from  Cyrus.  He  says  the 
boy  has  the  talent  for  an  actor.  I  'm  sorry :  still,  if 
he  can  do  this  well,  it  will  be  better  than  to  do  some- 
thing else  ill.  Certainly  I  should  not  have  chosen 
the  profession,  had  it  been  left  to  me.  As  it  is,  I 
shall  not  oppose  him.  I  only  wish  he  would  return. 
Study  is  needful ;  he  might  do  that  with  us.  The 
doctor  says  I  had  best  write  to  him.  As  he  left  sud- 
denly, he  may  think  we  blame  him.  I  will  write  to- 
morrow, and  tell  him  that  I  want  him  to  come  home. 
You  could  help  him  if  he  wants  to  be  an  actor,  could 
you  not?     There  must  be  training  and  rehearsals." 

There  was  a  choking  in  Daisy's  throat.  She  tried 
to  answer ;  then  whispering  to  Ellen,  "  Interest  your 
mother,  I  must  be  absent  for  a  half  hour,"  she  be- 
gan to  help  Barbara  to  remove  the  tea  things  to  the 
kitchen-table ;  then  filling  a  small  waiter,  she  disap- 
peared up  the  back  stairs. 

"  Had  it  been  any  one  else,  I  should  not  have 
waited;  but  I  was  sure  that  you  would  come.  Does 
mother  know  that  I  am  here  ?  "  asked  Jay. 

''  Your  mother  still  expects  that  you  will  come. 
O  Jay!  how  can  I  tell  her?  Here  is  your  supper; 
let  me  see  you  eat  it,"  said  Daisy,  in  a  choking  voice 

"  I  cannot,  Di ;  I  am  not  in  the  least  hungry." 


DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  211 

"  But  you  will  be.  No  knowing  when  —  "  and  the 
tears  were  running  over  Daisy's  face. 

"  I  know;  but  I  can't,  Di.  It  is  time  for  me  to  go. 
Tell  mother  I  should  n't  have  done  it,  if  I  had  not 
thought  to  make  her  more  comfortable." 

**  Your  mother  wants  to  see  you  a  good,  honest 
man,  Jay." 

"  And  this  was  not  honest,  you  mean  to  say,"  and 
a  bitter  smile  broke  over  the  pale  face. 

"  Honesty  has  nothing  to  fear.  Jay." 

"  That  is  true,  Di  ;  and  I  fear  being  caught  and 
cooped  up  for  a  few  years.  Good-by ;  bad  as  I  am, 
you  will  think  of  me  sometimes?"  and  he  seized 
Daisy's  hand  and  covered  it  with  kisses. 

"  I  am  your  sister.  Jay ;  kiss  me  good-by,"  and 
Daisy  held  up  her  tear-wet  face. 

*'  Here  's  another  for  mother  and  Ellen.  If  I 
escape  — "  and  the  poor  youth  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands. 

"You  will  be  a  good  man.  Jay;  you  will  never 
again  do  anything  the  least  bit  wrong?  " 

"  It  does  not  seem  now  that  I  will,"  was  the 
choking  reply. 

"  I  will  tell  your  mother  that  you  are  to  be  a  good 
man  ;  it  will  comfort  her,"  continued  Daisy. 

**  Tell  her  anything  to  comfort  her,  and  I  will 
try,*'  said  Jay,  uncovering  his  face. 

Taking  a  small  bundle  in  his  hand.  Jay  went  down 
the  narrow  stairs,  and  out  into  the  darkness. 

Falling  on  her  knees,  Daisy  wept  and  prayed.    She 


212  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

was  not  conscious  oi  the  time.  Suddenly,  she  felt 
Barbara's  hand  on  her  arm. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Jay  is  ?  "  was  whispered  in 
a  hoarse  voice. 

"Jay!  Jay!  he  went  out  this  morning,"  and  the 
half-bewildered  girl  stared  at  Barbara. 

"  What  do  you  want  of  him  ?  "  asked  Daisy.  ^ 

"  I  have  just  been  to  the  grocery,  and,  coming  out, 
I  heard  them  say  Jay  had  been  counterfeiting,  and 
that  he  would  be  arrested." 

**  Hush  !  hush  !  Barbara ;  there  is  some  mistake. 
Don't  breathe  a  word  of  this." 

*'  I  thought  perhaps,  if  there  was  danger,  you  could 
save  him,"  Barbara  replied. 

**  You  did  perfectly  right  to  come  and  tell  me," 
said  Daisy,  recovering  herself,  and  seeing  that  Barbara 
looked  troubled.  "  We  must  know  more  about  it 
before  we  repeat  such  news  to  Mrs.  Delafield  and 
Ellen." 

Shaking  off  her  sorrow,  Daisy  bathed  her  eyes, 
and  went  down.  Ellen  was  engaged  with  her  book, 
"  Life  for  a  Life." 

"  I  am  sorry  your  head  is  so  bad ;  I  have  been 
looking  every  moment  to  see  you  enter.  Ellen  de- 
serv^es  a  better  listener  than  I  am,"  said  Mrs.  Dela- 
field  to  Daisy. 

*'  My  head  does  ache  badly,  and,  if  you  please,  I 
will  retire  early,"  was  the  calm  reply. 

"  You  had  better,  and  let  Ellen  or  Barbara  bathe 
it  for  you.  I  will  sit  here  for  Jay,"  returned  Mrs. 
Delafield. 


VOIVNWARD  AND    UPWARD,  213 

**  I  am  afraid  that  he  will  not  be  in  till  late.  Will 
it  not  be  prudent  for  you  to  retire  also  ?  "  asked  Daisy. 

**  It  seems  to  me  that  I  must  see  him  before  I 
sleep.  I  want  to  tell  him  what  Dr.  Landseer  says 
of  Cyrus." 

"  He  is  detained  so  often,  and  he  may  be  to-night," 
plead  Daisy. 

**  It  may  be  best  to  wait  till  morning;  and,  still,  I 
feel  that  I  could  sleep  better,  could  I  only  see  him," 
answered  the  mother. 

Alas  !  for  the  little  deceit,  the  poor  mother  would 
not  sleep  to-night,  longing  to  see  this  son  that  would 
not  come,  perchance  would  never  come  again. 

"  I  cannot  do  otherwise ;  and,  if  wrong,  may  I  be 
forgiven,"  murmured  Daisy. 

Leaving  everything  as  if  she  expected  Jay  to 
enter,  Mrs.  Delafield  was  persuaded  to  go  to  her 
room.  Daisy  and  Ellen  entered  their  own.  For 
years  they  had  occupied  the  same  chamber.  There 
was  no  concealment  between  them.  Closing  the 
door,  Ellen  threw  her  arms  about  Daisy's  neck,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

"  Tell  me,  I  beg  of  you,  what  has  happened  to 
Jay." 

"  What  leads  you  to  think  that  anything  has  hap- 
pened to  him  ?  " 

''  Oh,  Daisy !  do  not  keep  it  from  me.  I  know  it 
by  your  face.  There  is  something  terrible.  Has  he 
been  here  to-night?" 

"  Yes.  Jay  has  been  here,  and  he  has  gone.  I 
could  not  tell  his  mother." 


214  DO  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

"  Gone  !     Where  ?  "  exclaimed  Ellen. 

"  Counterfeiting  money  has  been  traced  to  him ; 
the  officers  are  on  the  watch  :  if  he  does  not  elude 
them,  he  will  be  arrested,  and  probably  imprisoned." 

"  Oh,  Di!  it  is  n't  possible  !  "  and  Ellen  was  weep- 
ing bitterly.     "  What  can  we  do  for  him  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  that  we  can  do.  I  half  suspect 
the  officers  will  be  here  to-night.  If  we  can  delay 
pursuit  for  a  day  or  two,  that  will  be  all  that  is  left  to 
us,"  was  the  trembling  answer. 

*'  Do  you  remember,  Di,  I  said,  only  a  few  even- 
ings since,  how  nice  it  would  be  could  we  only  make 
gold  ?  I  did  not  think  it  would  come  back  to  me  in 
a  way  like  this,"  murmured  Ellen. 

"  This  was  the  plan  that  Jay  has  talked  so  much 
about,"  continued  Daisy. 

"  It  will  kill  mother.  She  has  failed  so  much  since 
Cyrus  left ;  and  to-night  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  never 
saw  her  so  anxious  to  see  Jay,"  responded  Ellen. 

Grief  was  too  deep  for  words ;  and  sitting  with 
their  arms  twined  around  each  other's  neck,  the  night 
passed. 

"  I  cannot  sleep,"  Ellen  answered,  as  Daisy  urged 
her  to  try  and  rest.  ''  I  shall  never  sleep  again. 
What  if  they  find  Jay  ?  " 

"  Let  us  hope  that  he  will  escape ;  and,  if  he  does, 
he  said  that  he^  would  try  to  make  a  good  man,"  and 
Daisy  tried  to  speak  encouragingly. 

"  At  the  best,  he  cannot  be  with  us  any  more,"  said 
Ellen. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  215 

The  dawn  was  breaking.  Sleep  overpowered  them; 
and  when  they  awoke  the  sun  was  shining, 

"  Breakfast  is  ready,"  said  Barbara,  surprised  to 
find  the  two  girls  dressed,  and  the  bed  not  tumbled. 

•'*  Make  no  remarks  as  you  go  down,"  said  Daisy. 
**  We  will  follow  you  directly." 

At  the  breakfast-table  Mrs,  Delafield  asked  for  Jay, 
and  even  sent  Barbara  to  his  room.  Daisy  antici- 
pated this,  and  had  locked  the  door,  taking  the  key. 

"  The  door  is  locked,"  Barbara  said,  on  coming 
down. 

*'  Poor  boy,  I  suppose  he  is  tired.  He  has  been 
steadier  of  late.  I  begin  to  hope  he  will  yet  make 
a  business  man.     If  he  only  does,"  said  the  mother. 

As  the  day  advanced,  two  policemen  called  at  the 
door  and  asked  to  see  Mr.  Delafield, 

"  It  is  not  his  custom  to  come  in  before  dark," 
answered  Daisy.  "  If  you  can  call  at  nine,  per- 
haps." 

They  turned  abruptly.  She  did  not  think  to  de- 
ceive them;  she  only  wished  to  give  Jay  the  advan- 
tage of  a  few  hours  in  advance.  Before  night  it  was 
noised  abroad.  Jay's  place  of  business  was  visited. 
He  was  not  there.  Mrs.  Delafield  took  the  alarm. 
Daisy  felt  that  it  would  be  a  mercy,  and  as  gently  as 
possible  she  told  her  all.  There  were  no  tears.  She 
did  not  even  cry  out;  but  there  was  a  look  of  de- 
spair on  her  face  that  told  the  iron  had  entered  into 
her  soul. 

Morning  held  them  in  suspense.  Had  Jay  es- 
caped, or  was  he  confined  in  a  felon's  cell?     Eagerly 


2 1 6  DO  IVN IV  A  RD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D. 

Daisy  seized  the  morning  paper,  and  ran  over  the 
items  of  the  day. 

**  Last  night  the  police  succeeded  in  breaking  up 
the  haunt  of  noted  counterfeiters ;  three  of  those 
arrested  are  old  offenders.  Suspicion  rests  on  sev- 
eral others,  who  are  still  at  large." 

"Old  offenders!"  Of  course  Jay  is  not  one;  he  is 
still  at  large.  And  her  heart  was  lightened.  "  Oh  ! 
if  he  escapes,  the  memory  of  this  will  make  him  a 
better  man.  It  will  be  a  warning,  a  safeguard  for 
the  future."  She  could  not  tell  Mrs.  Delafield ;  but, 
leaving  the  paper  where  she  was  sure  that  it  would' 
be  read,  Daisy  turned  to  her  lessons. 

All  day  a  pale,  shadowy  woman  went  in  and  out 
of  the  small  rooms,  restless  and  sad.  A  mother 
mourning  the  loss  of  children  —  the  sharp  tooth  of 
anguish  eating  into  her  heart.  She  had  made  a 
mistake,  and  the  thought  tortured  her.  From  her 
own  standpoint  she  could  not  deny  that  it  had  been 
hard  to  feel  herself  like  some  worthless  thing  left 
on  the  rocks  by  the  retreating  tide.  It  had  been 
hard  for  Jay  to  battle  with  temptation ;  and  the 
mother  forgets  every  thing  else  in  thinking  how 
much  he  suffered. 

Up  and  down  the  room  she  walked.  Here  was  the 
remnant  of  a  letter,  and  there  a  cap  and  coat;  ten- 
derly she  stooped  to  raise  it,  letting  her  fingers  fall 
caressingly.  It  had  pressed  the  head  of  her  dear 
boy,  and  on  that  account  was  invested  with  a  sort  of 
sacredness.  Next  she  opened  the  drawers.  Jay 
had  a  woman's  sense  of  order  about  his  wardrobe. 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  21/ 

It  was  all  there,  and  he  was  gone.  Faintness  crept 
over  her,  and,  trembling  like  some  guilty  thing,  she 
groped  her  way  back  to  her  room. 

"  O  God,  have  pity  !     Spare  my  child !  " 

It  was  a  mother's  prayer,  and  the  great  Father 
heard.  Once  more  the  head  was  bowed :  ''  For 
Christ's  sake." 

Night  found  them  grouped  around  the  parlor-fire, 
with  faces  rigid  and  white.  In  vain  Barbara  puzzled 
her  head  to  tempt  the  appetite  with  something  new. 
It  seemed  a  mockery, —  the  cheerful  room  and  bounti- 
ful supply,  —  while  Jay  was  cold  and  hungry,  a  wan- 
derer like  Cain. 

A  step  was  in  the  hall,  and  Mr.  Parton  entered. 
Sorrow  is  lightened  by  sharing  with  another,  and 
a  friend  is  proved  in  adversity. 

Up  to  this  time,  it  was  clear  that  Jay  was  not  ar- 
rested. There  was  no  proof,  perhaps.  The  leaders 
were  secured.  Jay  was  young ;  and  there  was 
hope  that  this  would  prove  a  lesson  —  punishment 
enough.  There  was  no  reply,  while  the  lips  moved. 
The  good  man  saw,  and  did  his  best  to  comfort. 
**  In  every  life  there  are  turning-points,"  and  this 
was  one  so  sharp  and  terrible  he  surely  would  re- 
member. 

"  Too  late  I  see  that  love  of  right  is  a  principle  to 
be  cultivated  from  the  germ  —  not  a  bud  to  be 
grafted  on  a  half-grown  tree,"  said  the  mother,  with 
effort. 

'*  Mistakes  are  not  to  be  mourned  over  to  the  loss 
of  present  good.  Way-marks  they  well  may  be  to 
-9 


2l8  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

guide  our  future  steps.  Straying  from  the  path, 
there  is  no  time  when  we  may  not  return  ;  and,  if 
we  ask,  there  stands  One  ever  ready  to  point  us  to 
the  way,"  said  Mr.  Parton. 

"  Is  there  not  such  a  thing  as  going  too  far  ?  " 
asked  the  mother. 

"  Can  Jay  go  so  far  that  you  will  not  be  glad  to  see 
him  return  ?  " 

"  Jay  has  done  wrong,  but  I  cannot  love  him  less. 
I  would  gladly  give  up  my  life  to  have  him  back, 
and  know  his  heart  free  from  the  stain  of  wrong," 
was  the  answer. 

"  If  this  is  your  love,  what  must  have  been  His? 
To  see  His  children  straying  away  into  the  paths  oi 
sin,  unmindful  of  His  love,  not  moved  by  His  tears, 
to  save  them,  to  bring  them  back.  He  gave  His 
own  most  precious  life,  bearing  the  punishment  of 
their  sin,  that  they  might  be  reinstated  in  the 
Father's  house.  What  love  !  Unfathomable  to  human 
hearts,"  answered  Mr.  Parton. 

"  If  we  make  mistakes,  and  go  astray,  we  can  still 
go  back  ?  " 

"  Your  mother's  heart  can  answer.  The  Saviour 
loves  with  a  tenderer  love  than  mothers  know." 

"  My  boy  !  my  boy !  Would  I  could  have  him 
back  !  "  exclaimed  the  mother. 

"'Come  unto  me,'  He  says.  There  never  was 
sweeter  invitation.  As  you  long  for  the  return  of 
your  child,  so  God  longs  for  the  return  of  his  child. 
His  love  never  wearies,"  plead  the  pastor. 

"  He  loves  all?"  was  the  trembling  question. 


D  O  WN  WA  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  2 1 9 

"  His  love  is  free  to  all,  whosoever  will.  Freely 
he  forgives,  blots  out,  and  will  no  more  remember." 

"Alas  !  too  late  I  've  learned  to  ask.  My  children 
are  lost  to  me.  He  cannot  give  them  back,"  and 
there  was  agony  in  the  mother's  voice. 

"There  is  no  limit  to  his  power;  none  to  his 
grace,"  was  the  tender  response. 

"Will  he  hear?" 

"  Would  you  hear  Jay  ?  " 

"A  whisper,  lighter  than  the  summer  air,  would 
fill  my  heart  with  rapture." 

"Then  judge  by  this  faint  measure  what  his  joy 
must  be. 

"  *  As  one  whom  his  mother  comforteth,  so  will  I 
comfort  you/  "  said  the  pastor. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SETH    WHITE    GOES    TO    THE    THEATRE. 

IN  a  small  apartment  in  the  east  wing  of  the 
Belden  Institute,  a  young  man  sat  at  a  table 
covered  with  books  and  manuscripts.  His  eyes 
were  on  the  open  page,  and,  had  the  professors  seen 
him,  they  would  have  been  delighted  with  the  utter 
abstraction  of  look  and  manner.  Deeply  absorbed 
he  was ;  but  it  was  not  of  his  studies  he  was  think- 
ing. An  open  letter  was  in  his  hand,  and  a  play- 
bill was  spread  out  before  him,  the  great  red  letters 
staring  him  in  the  face.  Could  it  be  that  Seth  White, 
the  persevering  young  tutor  and  the  indefatigable 
student,  was  thinking  of  the  stage?  Could  he  find 
time  to  go  to  the  theatre,  provided  he  had  the  wish 
to  see  the  representation  ? 

The  theatre  was  not  a  standing  institution  in  Bel- 
den. It  was  a  new  idea,  an  innovation  on  estab- 
lished usage,  in  that  time-honored  town,  calling  forth 
the  indignation  of  some  and  the  curiosity  of  others, 
and  making,  on  the  whole,  a  "good  thing,"  the  man- 
ager said.  Whatever  it  was,  everybody  had  some- 
thing to  say ;  and,  between  the  crying  down  of  pro- 
fessors and  the  laughing  of  students,  the  actors  were 
favored  with  a  capital  house  every  night. 


• 


U  U  IV JV  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  221 

To  go  or  to  stay,  was  not  the  question  with  the 
young  tutor.  Neither  did  he  take  it  upon  himself 
to  decide  upon  the  merits  of  the  drama.  Studious 
as  he  was,  he  was  not  without  a  good  degree  of  im- 
agination. He  knew  that  Paradise  Lost,  though  an 
exceedingly  religious  poem,  was  largely  dramatic, 
and  could  easily  be  prepared  for  the  stage.  To  make 
the  matter  short,  he  enjoyed  a  drama ;  and  still,  he 
had  never  been  inside  a  theatre,  never  seen  a  repre- 
sentation on  the  stage.  It  was  not  the  drama,  neither 
the  actino;  that  disturbed  him  ;  he  was  thinking  sim- 
ply  of  the  actor.  "  Cyrus  Delafield  "  was  before  him, 
"  a  rising  star  in  histrionic  art,"  the  paper  said ;  and 
again  Seth  White  lived  it  all  over, — fresh  and  distinct 
before  him,  his  first  visit  to  the  city,  and  to  Mrs. 
Delafield's  house.  Who  would  have  dreamed  of 
such  a  change?  And  there  was  pity  in  his  heart. 
The  letter  was  from  his  cousin,  Herbert  Lindsey, 
and  made  it  all  plain. 

Sitting  in  the  midst  of  his  books,  the  one  lamp 
sending  a  fitful  light  over  the  room,  it  all  came  back; 
the  diffidence  he  felt,  and  the  mistakes  he  made. 
His  cousin  was  careful  to  take  him  to  all  the  princi- 
pal places  of  resort,  encouraging  him  as  one  from 
whom  he  hoped  much.  Grateful  he  was  for  such 
exhibition  of  kindness,  profiting  by  every  word  and 
Ic^k,  and  more  and  more  determined  to  improve 
himself  to  the  extent  of  his  ability.  Daisy  and  El- 
len received  him  warmly;  they  did  not  mind  his 
inaiwaise  grace,  meeting  him  as  an  old  friend  and 
speaking  tenderly  of  their  acquaintance  in  the  coun- 
19  * 


222  DO  WN  WARD   A  ND    UP  IV  A  R  D. 

try.  It  is  a  long  time  since  he  has  thought  of  it,  and 
now  it  all  comes  up  before  him,  —  the  passing  bow 
from  Jay  and  Cyrus,  the  stately  hauteur  of  Kate  and 
Agues.  He  made  no  effort  to  appear  what  he  was 
not ;  neither  did  he  strive  to  hear  wha<-  was  not  in- 
tended for  him  ;  and  still  he  did  hear  Kate's  expres- 
sion with  regard  to  inviting  "  the  clod  hopper "  to 
her  party.  This  had  stung  him  to  the  quick.  He 
felt  that  it  was  true ;  that  he  was  constantly  out- 
raging the  usages  of  metropolitan  life;  that  his  coat 
was  coarse  and  unfashionably  made.  He  knew  that 
his  appearance  warranted  her  in  laughing  at  him  be- 
hind her  fan.  He  did  not  wonder  that  she  did  it; 
and  still  it  stung  him,  causing  him  to  appreciate  alt 
the  more  the  kindly  welcome  of  the  two  with  whom 
he  had  spent  a  summer  in  Tipton. 

Mr.  Delafield  had  also  rendered  him  service  in  the 
business  on  which  he  came.  Try  as  he  would,  he 
could  not  deny  that  he  was  pained ;  and  the  defects 
of  which  he  was  conscious  weighed  him  down  with 
heaviness.  More  than  once  after  that  did  he  find 
himself  murmuring  against  the  circumstances  that 
hedged  him  in  —  the  hard,  narrow  path  in  which  he 
had  been  compelled  to  walk.  Looking  to  Jay  and 
Cyrus,  he  felt  that  his  manner  would  have  been  as 
smooth,  his  bow  as  graceful,  had  he  only  been  more 
accustomed  to  society.  Why  did  God  give  so  much 
to  some  and  so  little  to  others  ?  And  he  remem- 
bered that  he  felt  dissatisfied  with  himself,  and  still 
resolved  to  do  all  that  was  in  his  power. 

With  all  the  mortification,  that  visit  was  an  event 


D  O  WN  WA  KD   A  ND    UP  W A  R  D.  22  3 

in  his  life  from  which  he  dated  many  a  high  resolve. 
It  had  stimulated  him.  Others  had  risen  to  eminence 
with  less  favorable  surroundings  than  he  had  known. 
What  had  been  accomplished  in  the  past  could  be 
effected  in  the  future.  He  was  led  to  see  his  own 
deliciencies,  and  he  determined  to  make  them  less. 
And  at  last  the  memory  of  the  kindness  he  had  re- 
ceived was  made  to  balance  the  derision  and  scorn 
that  at  first  so  distressed  him.  Never  had  he  exerted 
himself  as  he  did  after  that  visit.  And  now  he  is 
reaping  the  fruit  of  his  labor.  Less  than  three  short 
years,  and  what  changes  had  taken  place !  The  rich 
merchant  dead  and  his  family  scattered. 

Once  more  Seth  reads  the  letter,  and  his  eyes  fill 
with  tears.  There  is  nothing  of  envy  in  his  heart 
now,  but  pity,  real  and  unaffected.  If  not  intruding, 
he  would  like  to  see  Cyrus  Delafield  ;  perhaps  he 
could  render  him  a  service.  At  least,  he  could  shOw 
him  there  was  nothing  remembered  to  his  disadvan- 
tage. To  do  by  others  as  we  would  like  to  be  done 
by  was  his  motto.     But  how  to  bring  this  about  ? 

A  significant  rap  on  the  door,  and  Thomas  Cline 
entered. 

*'  Studying  as  usual,  White.  Just  put  up  your 
books  for  once,  and  come  with  me  to  the  play. 
They  say  it  is  well  worth  seeing ;  and  the  principal 
actor  has  a  very  commendable  degree  of  talent;  bids 
fair  to  excel  in  this  particular  art." 

"To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  just  thinking  of  it,"  re- 
turned Seth  White. 

"  This  is  the  last  night,  and  his  favorite  role^  I  am 
told." 


224  i^  O  VVN  WA  R  D   A  ND    UP  W A  R  IK 

"  I  would  like  much  to  meet  this  young  actor.  I 
care  not  so  much  to  hear  him,"  continued  the  student. 

"  That  can  be  easily  effected.  Fortunately,  I  know 
the  manager.  He  will  be  delighted,  if  I  introduce  you 
as  '  Professor,'  "  added  Thomas  Cline. 

"  Not  quite  that ;  but  I  Ve  half  a  mind  to  go." 

**  Come  on ;  don't  stop,  or  your  half  resolve  will 
grow  cold." 

And  thus  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  Seth  White 
went  to  the  theatre. 

The  play  was  half  through  when  the  two  friends 
entered.  Curiosity  was  awake.  The  students,  scat- 
tered liberally  among  the  audience,  looked  up  as  the 
young  tutor  passed  along ;  they  had  not  thought  of 
him  in  such  a  place.  TJie  seat  to  which  they  were 
directed  commanded  a  good  view  of  the  stage  ;  while 
through  the  folds  of  the  curtain  they  could  catch 
glimpses  of  by-play  between  the  acts. 

It  was  a  Roman  play,  and  they  could  not  deny  a 
certain  kind  of  dignity  in  the  noble  senators  seated 
on  the  boards.  The  entire  scenic  display  was  better 
than  they  anticipated ;  and  as  the  hero  made  his 
appearance  in  the  last  act,  he  was  greeted  with  shouts 
of  applause.  In  his  white  hair  and  venerable-looking 
beard,  his  tall  and  dignified  figure  enveloped  in  the 
Roman  toga,  Seth  White  failed  to  recognize  the 
youth  he  sought.  His  acting  was  creditable,  and 
his  entire  bearing  gave  evidence  of  spirit  and  ability  ; 
bravos  greeted  him  on  every  side ;  and  when  he 
made  his  bow  and  reeled  gracefully  from  the  stage, 
his    companions    meeting    him    with    a    glass    "  to 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  235 

fortify,"  the  young  tutor  determined,  for  the  sake  of 
his  dead  father,  to  warn  him  of  the  peril  that  sur- 
rounded him. 

To  effect  this  he  followed  his  friend  into  the  hotel, 
and  was  by  him  duly  introduced,  and  among  the  rest 
to  Cyrus  Delafield.  For  an  instant  their  hands  met, 
and  their  eyes  looked  into  each  other's  faces  without 
recognition.  The  tutor,  dubbed  professor  by  his 
friend,  seemed  far  removed  from  the  rustic  whom 
Cyrus  Delafield  remembered  as  Seth  White ;  while 
the  flushed  face  and  wandering  eyes  of  the  actor  were 
as  far  removed  from  the  high-bred,  graceful  youth 
accustomed  to  all  the  elegancies  of  city  life. 

Conversation  turning  upon  the  drama,  the  actor 
grew  brilliant.  What  reforms  were  not  to  be  effected 
by  this  means, —  prejudices  overcome,  and  elevation 
and  refinement  carried  to  the  highest  perfection. 
"And  why  not?  Shall  we  never  see  these  wonder- 
ful creations  of  master  minds  reproduced  upon  the 
stage  without  the  fear  of  losing  caste,  provided  we 
are  led  to  patronize  them  ?  May  not  a  theatre  be 
conducted  with  strict  regard  to  the  principles  of 
morality,  taste,  and  refinement?  The  very  fact  of 
your  being  with  us  to-night  shows  me  that  you  are 
above  the  narrow  prejudice  that  we  so  often  have  to 
combat." 

"  And  still  there  is  a  practical  difficulty  in  this  re- 
form.    It  is  not  that  the  drama  is  essentially  wrong, 
or  that  the  composition  is  not  commendable,  but  the 
associations  connected  with  it,"  returned  the  tutor. 
''The  inherent  quality  of  the  drama  can  only  be 


226  DO  WN IV  A  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

known  by  representation,  bringing  it  out  clearly  and 
distinctly  before  the  mind,  giving  a  tangible  form 
and  shape ;  and  this  can  only  be  done  by  the  actor." 

"  I  hardly  agree  with  you  there,"  returned  the  tutor. 
"Shakspeare  is  enjoyed  by  thousands  who  never  en- 
tered a  theatre.  The  imagination  of  the  reader  sup- 
plies all  scenic  effects.  I  remember,  in  listening  to 
the  reading  of  one  of  our  most  eminent  elocutionists, 
he  said :  '  It  is  even  doubtful  whether  the  most  culti- 
vated minds  receive  a  deeper  impression  from  wit- 
nessing the  performance  on  the  boards,  simply  be- 
cause the  unavoidable  imperfections  of  the  stage  fall 
far  short  of  the  ideal  perfection  of  the  imagination, 
and  take  from  the  seeming  reality  of  the  persons 
themselves  and  the  events.'  " 

"To  a  limited  number  this  may  be  the  case  ;  but 
the  mass  would  be  more  affected  by  a  representa- 
tion," continued  the  actor. 

"  That  may  be ;  but  the  drama  does  not  turn  upon 
this  point.  The  drama  itself  is  not  wrong,  neither  is 
the  acting  inherently  wrong.  To  read  a  play  is  to 
act  it  to  a  certain  extent.  The  reader  throws  him- 
self into  the  character  whose  utterances  are  before 
him,  and  by  modulation  of  tone  and  varied  expres- 
sion of  feature  and  gesture  making  the  reading  like 
life.  In  this  consists  the  charm  of  reading.  The 
same  may  be  said  of  conversation.  Story-telling,  for 
instance,  stripped  of  the  peculiar  action  necessary  to 
give  effect,  would  be  like  some  lifeless  thing.  Neither 
is  the  stage  itself  a  more  hurtful  place  than  the  par- 
lor.    In  one  case  the  reader  has  a  book,  in  the  other 


DO  IVNWARD  AND    UPWARD.  22/ 

he  speaks  from  memory,  and  with  all  the  appearance 
of  being  the  very  person  he  represents.  But  while 
we  admit  all  this,  these  things  themselves  are  not  the 
theatre,  nor  is  the  theatre  all  these  together." 

**  Pray,  what  is  it,  then  ?  "  asked  the  actor. 

"The  theatre  is  a  long-established  institution. 
The  word  stands  for  a  certain  understood  combina- 
tion of  facts  and  influences.  To  the  theologian  it 
presents  itself  as  a  unit.  We  speak  of  the  theatre 
just  as  we  speak  of  the  Church  and  the  State.  The 
word  carries  with  it  the  idea  of  a  playhouse,  nightly 
exhibitions,  and  professional  actors,  with  a  variety 
of  tragic  aiid  comic  plays,  suited  to  all  degrees  of 
intelligence  and  taste.  Almost  as  invariably  it  carries 
with  it  the  idea  of  late  hours,  frivolity,  profane  lan- 
guage, intemperance,  loose  morals,  and  the  compan- 
ionship of  the  vilest  characters,"  answered  the  tutor. 

"A  little  good,  you  admit,  with  an  immensity  of 
evil.  Then  why  are  you  here  ?  "  and  the  eyes  of  the 
actor  flashed  indignantly. 

"  I  came  to  see  one  who  is  said  to  excel  in  the  art 
of  representation." 

"And  you  have  seen  him.  Pray,  what  do  you 
think  of  him?  "  was  asked  in  a  tone  of  irony. 

"  I  think  of  him  as  the  son  of  one  who  did  me  a 
service  in  my  need,  and  whose  memory  is  linked 
with  the  sweetest  and  most  sacred  reminiscences  of 
my  life,"  was  the  feeling  response. 

"  Pray,  who  are  you,  if  I  may  be  so  bold?" 

"  Do  you  remember  Herbert  Lyndsey  ?     And  do 


228  DO  IV  iV  WA  RD   A  XD    UP  WA  RD. 

you  recall  an  evening  when  he  brought  a  country 
cousin  to  your  father's  house  in  New  York  ?  " 

"Seth  White?"  exclaimed  the  actor. 

"The  same." 

"  I  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  Seth  White,  from 
Tipton;  but  you  have  changed  astonishingly.  I  did 
not  dream  of  your  being  one  that  I  had  ever  seen." 

"Have  you  heard  from  home  recently?"  asked 
the  tutor. 

**  You  know  that  our  home  is  not  what  it  used 
to  be?" 

"  I  knew  that  you  had  lost  your  father." 

"  My  mother  lives  in  a  small  way,  and  I  am 
here." 

"  It  is  the  profession  of  your  choice  ?  "  questioned 
the  tutor. 

'*  I  had  no  choice.  I  was  obliged  to  resort  to  it. 
Besides,  I  am  to  create  a  reform.  The  wrongs  that 
you  have  enumerated  must  be  expelled.  The  theatre 
is  destined  to  carry  with  it  a  different  meaning  than 
you  have  given  it,"  and  the  actor  spoke  calmly. 

"  At  present,  you  acknowledge  that  I  am  right?  " 

"All  this  is  the  effect  of  prejudice,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Prejudice  that  requires  more  than  one  lifetime 
to  overcome." 

"I  shall  do  what  I  can,"  said  the  actor. 

"  Use  the  same  amount  of  labor  on  something  that 
is  not  so  restricted.  Success  will  be  more  perma- 
nent, and  not  so  long  coming,"  continued  the  tutor. 

"That  may  be;  and  still  I  tried  it  for  a  year  or 
more,  worked  hard,  and  gained  nothing." 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  229 

"  You  win  more  here  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  said  the  actor,  starting  to  his  feet. 
^     "  You  also  spend  more,"  questioned  the  tutor. 

"  I  cannot  deny  it ;  but  these  are  trial  days.  When, 
by  study  and  practice,  I  become  a  favorite,  I  shall 
reap  more  abundantly." 

•'  How  will  it  be  with  your  moral  character?  Will 
it  be  possible  for  you  to  escape  influences  that  will 
drag  you  down  ?  " 

''  I  admit  that  there  is  danger.  As  I  have  said, 
the  theatre  is  not  what  it  is  destined  to  be.  You 
allow  there  is  some  good.  This  is  to  increase,  and 
the  ill  tendencies  to  decrease." 

"It  is  hard  rowing  against  the  tide.  I  am  more 
afraid  that  in  attempting  to  do  what  you  imagine 
you  can  do,  you  will  be  drawn  into  the 'vortex,  from 
which  you  will  find  it  impossible  to  withdraw,"  said 
the  tutor,  tenderly. 

It  was  late.  "  You  will  pardon  the  freedom  that 
I  have  taken.  Had  my  regard  for  you  been  less,  I  had 
not  seen  you  this  evening,"  added  the  tutor,  as  he 
took  his  leave. 

"Allow  me  to  say  that  I  am  sincerely  obliged  to 
you  for  your  kindness.  I  will  think  of  what  you 
have  said;  and  if  I  cannot  do  for  the  stage  all  that 
I  propose  to  do,  I  will  certainly  endeavor  to  keep 
myself  from  the  evils  you  have  enumerated,"  re- 
turned the  actor,  and  the  interview  was  at  an  end. 


20 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

GOING    AND    COMING. 

ONCE  more  the  soft,  sweet  spring  was  dispen- 
sing gifts  —  rare  tufts  of  hyacinths,  with  violets 
and  lilies.  A  healing  balm  was  in  the  atmosphere, 
and  the  brown  earth  was  flecked  with  sunshine. 

A  cold,  bleak  winter  they  had  passed;  and  as  they 
gathered  in  the  sm.all  room  at  night,  their  w^ords 
caught  something  of  the  outward  brightness.  To 
Mrs.  Delafield  it  had  been  a  long  continued  trial. 
From  the  day  Jay  left,  she  had  not  heard  from  him. 
Only  this:  she  knew  that  he  was  free;  the  thought 
consoled  her.  He  was  young;  she  was  sure  he  would 
reform.  All  winter  Ellen  had  been  at  her  books, 
and  Daisy  giving  lessons.  Old  ties  are  all  sundered, 
save  some  few  friends  who  cling  to  them  unmindful 
of  the  change.  They  have  no  complaints.  So  com- 
pletely has  Daisy  grown  to  think  of  others,  so  busy 
are  her  hands,  that  fancies  no  longer  trouble  her 
brain;  one,  two,  three,  leaving  her  at  night  too  tired 
to  dream.  But  now  the  spring  has  come,  and  it  is 
impossible  to  be  sad.  The  teeming  earth  is  full  of 
praise,  and  heavy  hearts  thrill  with  gratitude. 

Alas !  human  hearts  are  strong  to  endure  ;  but 
there  is  a  point  beyond  which  they  cannot  go. 
With  the  elasticity  of  youth,  Ellen  and   Daisy  felt 

230 


DOWNWARD   AND    UPWARD.  23I 

the  general  revivification  of  the  season.  Not  so 
Mrs.  Delafield ;  as  the  air  grew  soft  and  balmy,  she 
began  instinctively  to  droop.  One  by  one  the  long- 
taxed  nerves  gave  way,  the  springs  of  life  were 
sapped.  Dr.  Landseer  called  often ;  his  kindness 
can  assuage,  but  cannot  change. 

"Are  you  making  calculations  for  a  recess,  or 
does  your  term  extend  the  year  *  round '  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Lyndsey,  as  he  called  with  Dr.  Landseer. 

''That  will  depend  upon  my  pupils,"  answered 
Daisy. 

"  A  little  respite  would  invigorate  you." 

*'I  am  not  unnerved  by  the  heat  of  summer.  I 
breathe  freer  with  the  thermometer  at  a  hicrh  fip;ure." 

*'  That  does  not  do  away  with  the  necessity  of  rest. 
The  body  is  not  only  a  machine  to  act  as  directed,  but 
a  machine  that  needs  to  stop  occasionally  for  repairs." 

"Oh,  I  wind  up  at  night,"  and  a  light  laugh  sprang 
to  Daisy's  lips. 

"  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from  Mrs.  White. 
She  sends  a  pressing  invitation  for  you  all  to  spend 
the  summer  with  her.  She  says  you  will  be  wel- 
come," continued  Mr.  Lyndsey. 

"Mrs.  White  is  kind;  and  there  is  no  place  that 
would  please  me  as  well.  It  is  doubtful,  however," 
and  Daisy  threw  a  glance  in  the  direction  of  the  in- 
valid. 

The  visitors  had  gone ;  and,  drawing  their  chairs 
still  nearer  to  Mrs.  Delafield's  couch,  Daisy  talked 
of  the  summer  spent  with  Mrs.  White  —  the  valley 
nooks,  climbing    the    mountains,  and  looking   over 


232  DOWN  WARD   AND    UPWARD 

fields  golden  with  sheaves.  Then  of  the  morning 
walk  with  Lydia,  the  sorrowing  woman  they  had 
met,  the  visits  to  Mrs.  Orcutt,  and  the  quaint  talks 
with  Nathan.  It  was  not  so  long  ago;  and  still 
Daisy  feels  that  she  has  grown  much  older — so 
changed  the  circumstances  of  her  life,  the  lessons 
given  and  the  lessons  learned.  As  a  traveller  drinks 
in  new  views  at  each  step,  so  Daisy  feels  that  the 
way  has  not  been  barren.  If  the  track  looked  dark 
at  first,  it  is  brighter  now.  Faith  sees  clearer,  and 
hope  mounts  up  on  stronger  wings;  while  Ellen 
clasps  her  mother's  hand,  and  tries  to  speak  cheer- 
fully of  the  future. 

Great  waves  of  tropical  heat  rolled  over  the  city. 
In  her  small  home,  Daisy  was  still  giving  music  les- 
sons. *'  Because  my  own  heart  is  sad,  I  must  not 
disappoint  my  pupils,"  she  said  to  Ellen;  and  the 
days  passed  on. 

"  You  need  rest,  and  must  have  it ;  and,  as  for 
Ellen  and  Mrs.  Delafield,  I  have  determined  to  ap- 
propriate them  to  myself."  And  Dr.  Landseer  in- 
terrupted the  lesson  one  morning. 

"  Here  is  a  letter  from  Mr.  Hawley.  He  asks  that 
you  come  to  him  for  a  few  weeks.  His  sister  was 
thought  to  be  greatly  improved.  She  is  rational  at 
times,  and  converses  readily ;  but  her  health  is  fail- 
ing. She  can  live  but  a  short  time.  You  are  perhaps 
aware  that  her  husband  is  expected  daily.  The  poor 
mother's  heart  is  true  to  the  first  promptings.  She 
thinks  —  Good  heavens!  are  you  ill,  child?"  and  Dr. 
Landseer  caught  the  fainting  figure  in  his  arms. 


DOWN  fVAR  I)   AND    UPWARD.  233 

The  doctor  had  gone.  Daisy  was  alone  with  Bar- 
bara. 

**  Say  to  my  pupils  that  I  am  ill:  our  lessons  must 
be  suspended  for  a  time,"  and  Daisy  read  the  letter 
from  Mr.  Hawley.  The  handkerchief  had  been  sent 
to  England,  with  the  tiny  pair  of  half-worn  shoes. 
"There  is  no  mistake:  the  child  that  wore  this 
handkerchief  must  have  been  our  own,"  was  the 
answer. 

Tears  rolled  over  the  white  face.  Is  it  possible? 
Had  she  a  mother?  and  were  these  words  traced  by  a 
father's  hand?  Was  there  a  heart  pining  for  her  —  a 
heart  capable  of  penetrating  all  disguises  and  recog- 
nizing- its  own  through  the  mere  force  of  instinct? 
Now  was  explained  the  strange,  subtle  emotion  during 
their  first  meeting,  — the  rising  sympathy,  and  ten- 
der, yearning  love  on  her  own  part ;  the  quiet,  rest- 
ful expression  on  the  poor  sufferer's  face.  Is  there, 
then,  a  voice  stronger  than  reason  — a  tender,  subtle 
tie  between  mother  and  child,  something  impalpable 
in  the  soul,  and  sure  to  be  recognized,  despite  obsta- 
cles or  estrangement? 

**  After  all  these  years,  is  it  for  me  to  know  a 
mother's  love,  to  rely  upon  a  father's  care  ?  Great 
God,  have  mercy !  Spare  her  but  to  speak  to  me 
but  one  word !  May  I  hear  it  from  her  lips.  May 
I  be  permitted  to  breathe  the  one  word  —  mother," 
and  Daisy  was  overcome  with  emotion. 

"  I  sh  .11  not  leave  you  to  go  alone,"  said  Dr. 
Landseer,  as  he  made  preparation  for  Daisy's  journey 
to  Tipton.    "  I  would  take  you  myself,  but  Mr.  Lynd- 


234  DO  WN  IF  A  R  D  A  ND    UP  WA  R  D. 

sey  goes  out  at  the  same  time.  I  would  not  hasten 
you  ;  but  there  is  a  fear  " 

Daisy  understood  that  he  would  say  there  was  a 
fear  her  mother  would  not  live.  She  had  no  wish 
for  delay,  and  the  next  morning  left  for  Tipton. 

Days  passed.  Nestled  in  her  mother's  arms,  Daisy 
learned  the  secret  of  the  rest,  the  turning  of  the 
face,  when  she  had  thought  the  tangled  brain  fancied 
her  to  be  some  other  than  she  was. 

**  I  asked  for  proof,"  said  Mr.  Hawley,  as  he 
clasped  the  thin  fingers.  "  But  for  the  handker- 
chief and  the  tiny  shoes,  we  might  not  have  found 
you." 

Then  came  a  day  when  a  lone  man,  bent  with 
grief,  not  years,  clasped  to  his  heart  the  wife  and 
child  so  long  sundered.  It  is  said  joy  kills  as  well 
as  grief.  Be  it  so  or  not,  the  bliss  of  meeting  on  the 
mother's  face  seemed  a  sweet  foretaste  of  what  there 
was  in  store ;  but  not  here,  —  the  bloom  and  beauty 
on  the  other  side. 

The  day  of  burial  was  a  day  to  be  remembered  in 
Tipton.  A  day  when  the  people  came  out  to  sym- 
pathize with  the  good  pastor  whom  they  loved,  and 
whose  silent  suffering  for  years  had  rendered  him  only 
the  more  earnest  in  the  work  given  him  to  do.  Sad 
hearts !  but  over  all  the  shadow  of  a  great  joy. 
Leaning  on  the  arm  of  her  father,  Daisy  walked, 
calm  and  tranquil,  although  the  tears  were  streaming 
over  her  cheeks.  God  had  been  good  to  that 
sorrowing  mother,  giving  back  her  treasures,  and 
permitting   her  to    recognize    the    gift.      Was   it   in 


D  O  WN  WA  R  D   A  ND    UP  WA  R  D.  235 

mercy  that  her  reason  was  clouded,  her  sensibilities, 
in  a  measure,  blunted? 

Standing  by  the  grave  of  that  dear  mother,  Daisy 
learned  how  much  her  father  had  suffered,  —  his  let- 
ters all  returned,  made  to  believe  his  wife  and  child 
were  dead,  the  years  he  had  passed  a  solitary  man, 
his  only  solace  his  books  and  a  sweet  trust  in  God. 

Among  the  villagers  that  crowded  around  .to  con- 
dole with  and  to  congratulate  her  on  being  restored 
to  a  parent's  love,  there  was  none  more  welcome 
than  Mrs.  White.  Her  good,  motherly  heart  was 
brimming  over  with  thankfulness,  as  she  spoke  of  the 
summer  passed  there,  and  of  the  strong  conviction 
she  herself  felt,  as  she  saw  the  effect  of  Daisy's 
presence  on  the  invalid. 

"A  woman  does  not  live  in  her  intellect,"  said 
Mrs.  White.  "  Her  affections  are  the  well-springs 
of  her  being.  The  mother's  love  was  warm  and  ac- 
tive, if  her  intellect  was  clouded." 

"  Franklin  made  a  trial  of  this  theory,"  Mr.  Hawley 
observed;  *' suddenly  presenting  himself  before  his 
mother  as  coming  from  the  same  city  where  her  son 
resided,  representing  himself  as  being  an  associate 
and  a  friend.     His  mother  did  not  recognize  him." 

"That  some  souls  are  more  ethereal,  more  capable 
of  receiving  impressions,  or  how  can  we  account  for 
the  statements  with  regard  to  those  who  have  made 
known  their  impressions  relating  to  events  con- 
nected with  the  welfare  of  intimate  friends  and  rela- 
tions?" said  Mrs.  White. 

''  There  is  room  for  a  good  degree  of  speculation 


236  D  O  JVX  IV A  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R D. 

here,  and  also  many  fine-spun  theories ;  such  minds 
not  unfrequently  inhabit  very  frail  bodies.  I  cannot 
deny  that  I  have  been  led  to  sentimentalize  not  a 
little.  Still,  it  is  no  clearer:  try  as  I  will,  a  dim, 
misty  veil  hangs  over  the  subject,  and  when  I  dare 
to  lift  it,  I  find  a  wall,  an  impenetrable  barrier,  'thus 
far  and  no  farther,  O  man  ! '  and,  trembling  and 
dumb,  I  retreat,  ashamed  that  in  my  pride  I  left  the 
beaten  track,  seeking  to  unravel  what  He  had  pur- 
posely veiled,"  returned  Mr.  Hawley. 

'*  My  father  used  to  relate  impressions  of  this  kind 
connected  with  his  mother's  memory,"  continued 
Mrs.  White.  "  His  family  was  from  Scotland  ;  and 
when  his  father  left,  he  promised  his  wife  that  she 
should  return  in  a  given  time  to  visit  her  mother, 
between  whom  there  was  more  than  the  common 
attachment  of  mother  and  child.  Before  the  time 
specified,  and  while  they  were  anticipating  the  visit, 
the  wife  suddenly  appeared  before  her  husband,  and 
said  to  him  that  she  no  longer  wished  to  return,  for 
she  felt  sure  that  her  mother  was  dead  ;  and  to  re- 
turn to  a  desolate  home  was  more  than  she  could 
endure.  It  made  very  little  impression  upon  him  at 
the  time ;  but  sufficient  to  note  it  down,  and  soon 
after  a  letter  was  received,  bearing  the  intelligence 
of  the  sad  event,  and  proving  to  have  taken  place  at 
the  very  time  the  wife  spoke  to  her  husband." 

"  I  do  not  pretend  to  understand,  much  less  to  ex- 
plain, these  coincidences.  I  have  never  supposed 
that  we  used  our  powers  to  the  limit  of  their  capa- 
city ;  the  sensibilities  of  our  nature  refining  and  be- 


DOWN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  237 

coming  more  acute  by  the  study  of  those  subjects 
that  lead  upward,  pressing  against  the  invisible  bar- 
rier that  separates  the  real  and  tangible  from  the 
spirit  world  around  us.  Quick  feelings  are  checked 
by  the  rough  winds  of  our  present  existence ;  and 
keen  sensibility  does  not  bring  happiness  to  mortals. 
Hearts  susceptible  of  the  most  exquisite  enjoyment 
are  also  the  ones  to  be  plunged  in  the  deepest  woe," 
was  Mr.  Hawley's  reply. 

"It  is  better  to  suffer  than  to  go  through  life  with- 
out the  blessedness  of  joy,"  replied  Mrs.  White. 

"It  would  not  do  for  all  to  have  the  same  temper- 
ament; diverse  as  our  work,  so  varied  is  our  capacity. 
To  use  what  we  have  to  the  best  of  our  ability  is  all 
that  is  required;  and  if  a  soul  receives  an  impression 
in  advance  of  others,  it  is  only  what  we  see  in  the 
natural  world.  The  highest  peaks  are  the  first  to 
catch  the  sun  rays,  —  the  rosy  gleam  deepening  and 
rolling  away  in  waves  of  golden  light  to  the  distant 
valleys,"  continued  the  pastor. 

"The  most  exalted  are  the  most  isolated,"  said 
Mrs.  White. 

"In  one  sense,  perhaps;  and  still  I  question  if  the 
impressions  of  which  you  speak  are  not  more  fre- 
quently received  in  such  an  atmosphere." 

"I  am  not  equal  to  reasoning ;  and  yet  I  feel  there 
are  some  souls  with  more  of  God  in  them  than 
others,"  said  the  woman. 

"We  have  the  privilege  to  drink  from  the  same 
fountain.  Some  of  us  touch  our  lips,  and  start  back 
as  we  feel   the  electric  influence  running  along  our 


238         DO  IV jv IV a rd  a nd  up  wa r d. 

being.  Others  quaff  from  a  full  pitcher.  These  are 
the  God-filled  souls,"  was  Mr.  Hawley's  reply. 

To  Daisy  Delaficld,  or,  as  she  was  now  called, 
Daisy  Lisle,  the  days  brought  rest.  For  years  had 
her  nerves  been  strung  to  the  utmost,  and  the  strain 
was  beginning  to  be  felt.  In  general,  sudden  changes 
are  not  calculated  to  increase  individual  happiness. 
It  was  not  the  tornado, — uprooting  all  that  was  beau- 
tiful in  her  nature,  tearing  and  rending  asunder, —  but 
rather  emerging  from  a  rough,  thorny  way  into  a 
smooth  plain,  filled  with  flowers  and  enlivened  with 
singing  birds  and  gurgling  rivulets. 

Herself  changed,  she  found  change  in  others. 
Lydia  was  no  longer  the  timid,  awkward  girl.  Her 
form  had  rounded  into  beauty,  and  her  face  wore  the 
expression  of  lofty  and  pure  thought.  Making  use 
of  opportunities,  she  had  gathered  a  creditable  share 
of  knowledge,  and  her  conversation  was  seasoned 
with  wit  and  humor. 

Summer  vacation  brought  Seth  from  Belden,  and 
the  atmosphere  of  Mrs.  White's  house  was  full  of 
delight.  To  ]\Ir.  Lisle,  the  companionship  of  the 
young  students  had  the  effect  to  unlock  the  rich 
stores  of  knowledge  he  possessed,  opening  his  treas- 
ury, and  unfolding  truths  gathered  in  as  the  fruit 
of  his  own  study  and  research.  A  summer  of  rest 
to  some  and  of  rare  enjoyment  to  others  —  sitting 
with  Nature  in  her  temple  gates,  and  learning  lessons 
not  written  down  in  books. 

"  How  much  we  lose,"  said  Herbert  Lyndsey,  as 
from   the   porch    they    watched    the   sun    go   down. 


D  O  IVN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  WA  R D.  239 

"Seeking  far  and  wide  for  objects  to  admire,  forget- 
ful that  His  hand  fashioned  the  wayside  flower,  and 
gave  it  beauty  beyond  the  form  of  human  thought." 

"  It  requires  a  lifetime  to  learn  the  use  of  common 
things,"  Mr.  Lisle  replied  ;  "  or,  rather,  for  us  to 
learn  His  wondrous  love,  surrounding  us  wherever 
we  may  be  with  forms  of  beauty  marvellous  to  eyes 
from  which  the  scales  have  fallen." 

"It  is  our  mistake  to  do,  then  to  enjoy,"  added 
Herbert. 

"  I  question  if  we  do  not  make  too  much  of  that 
*  to  do;'  using  our  powers  to  the  full  stretch  working, 
not  enjoying;  and,  by  reason  of  continual  labor, 
dying  before  we  have  accomplished  half  of  what,  by 
moving  slower,  we  could  have  done,"  replied  Mr. 
Lisle. 

"I  suppose  this  feature  of  life  is  more  to  be  seen  on 
this  side  of  the  water.  I  do  not  consider  it  the  nat- 
ural outgrowth  of  our  institutions ;  and  still,  when  it 
is  left  for  one  to  carve  out  for  himself,  the  enjoyment 
must  be,  in  a  great  measure,  in  anticipation.  He 
can  chisel  and  think ;  but  he  cannot  la)'  aside  his 
chisel,  even  for  needful  relaxation.  I  have  some- 
times felt,  in  my  own  experience,  that  of  all  the  gifts 
to  crave,  would  be  the  power  to  do  to  the  utmost 
limit  of  what  is  due,  and  at  this  point  to  drop  it,  let 
it  be  as  it  may;  giving  myself  to  enjoyment  with 
just  as  much  zest  as  before  to  my  labor,"  answered 
Herbert. 

"  You  cannot  do  it,"  and  a  smile  broke  over  the 
face  of  Seth  White. 


240  DOWNWARD  AND    UPWARD. 

"  No,  I  cannot  do  it,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"  I  have  tried,"  continued  Seth  ;  "tried  conscien- 
tiously, all  the  while  conscious  of  thoughts  creeping 
stealthily  back ;  thoughts  that  would  not  be  re- 
strained by  a  sense  of  duty,  neither  won  by  all  the 
allurements  it  was  mine  to  set  before  them." 

"  I  presume  we  have  all  felt  more  or  less  of  this," 
said  Mrs.  White.  "  I  have  to  confess  to  an  earnest 
endeavor  in  this  direction;  and  it  was  only  as  I  came 
to  feel  in  my  heart  that  all  there  is  required  is  to  do 
what  we  can,  that  I  was  able  to  work  and  to  enjoy 
as  I  went  along." 

"  God  has  given  us  work  to  do,"  said  Mr.  Hawley, 
as  he  emerged  from  his  study.  **  And  if  we  act,  he 
will  show  us  hov/  to  do  it.  In  the  meantime,  he 
has  given  us  taste  to  enjoy,  and  set  us  in  a  world  of 
beauty.  If  labor  is  a  command,  to  enjoy  is  not  less 
binding.  What  would  a  parent  think  to  see  a  child 
always  toiling,  never  stopping  for  a  pleasant  word, 
taking  no  notice,  and  spending  no  enthusiasm  on  the 
beautiful  objects  which  had  come  to  him  from  time 
to  time  as  tokens  of  his  father's  love  ?  There  is  a 
time  for  everything.  Labor  is  essential  to  our  men- 
tal growth ;  enjoyment  is  needful  for  our  physical 
well-being.     God  treats  us  as  children." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

CONCLUSION. 

BEFORE  the  summer  passed,  Dr.  Landseer  and 
Ellen  Delafield  made  a  trip  to  Tipton. 

*'  I  must  come  out  every  season,  if  only  for  a  few 
days,"  said  the  doctor,  as  Mrs.  White  welcomed  him 
to  her  house.  "  And,  agreeable  as  I  have  endeavored 
to  be,  there  is  no  denying  that  since  her  mother's 
death,  Ellen  has  pined  for  a  glimpse  of  Daisy's  face." 

The  two  girls  were  walking  on  the  porch,  talking 
of  all  that  had  passed,  running  out  into  all  the  little 
confidences  refreshing  to  young  hearts. 

The  tears  were  running  down  Dr.  Landseer's 
cheeks  as  he  joined  them. 

**  Herbert  has  written  me  of  all  the  changes;  and, 
while  I  sincerely  rejoice  in  this  union  of  hearts  so 
long  separated,  I  am  sad  that  your  father  has  decided 
to  take  you  to  England." 

"  On  a  visit,  merely;  he  has  promised  to  make  his 
home  here,"  returned  Daisy. 

"  This  is  as  it  should  be,"  and  the  doctor  turned  to 
Mr.  Lisle.  "  I  am  very  glad  to  know  that  you  are 
to  return.  I  was  fearful  this  little  friend  would  be 
induced  to  marry  a  lord  for  the  sake  of  being  near 
you." 

21  Q  241 


242  D  0  WN  WA  RD   A  ND    UP  IV A  R D. 

"  I  half  suspect  her  choice  was  made  before  I  had 
an  acknowledged  claim,"  and  the  sad  eyes  rested  on 
Herbert  Lyndsey. 

"  Be  assured  there  is  not  a  worthier  man ;  not  one 
of  whom  you  may  be  more  justly  proud,"  Dr.  Land- 
seer  replied. 

At  night  Ellen  crept  up  to  Daisy. 

'*  It  seems  like  old  times  to  be  with  you,  Daisy. 
You  never  can  know  how  lonely  I  have  been ;  how 
much  I  missed  you ;  how  much  mamma  missed  you. 
I  knew  it  was  wrong;  but  that  did  not  make  m,e 
think  of  you  less.  I  had  so  long  been  accustomed 
to  go  to  you  for  advice,  and  when  I  felt  badly." 

"There  is  One  who  is  always  willing  to  give  you 
advice ;  and  when  you  are  sad  and  lonely.  He  is  all 
tenderness,"  said  Daisy,  with  all  the  old  warmth. 

"  I  know ;  and  when  I  have  felt  badly  because  I 
could  not  hear  from  Jay  and  Cyrus,  I  have  gone  to 
Him  and  felt  comforted ;  but  I  can't  help  feeling 
badly.  Cyrus  is  still  on  the  stage;  as  an  actor  he 
has  a  good  degree  of  merit,  Dr.  Landseer  says.  But 
oh,  Daisy,  it  was  the  burden  of  mamma's  heart; 
through  all  those  last  days  her  cry  was- to  see  them, 
to  know  that  they  were  good,  true  men.  I  don't 
even  know  where  Jay  is,  or  what  he  is  doing.  1 
could  but  think  of  it  to -night.  I  hope  it  is  not 
wrong.  To  see  Seth  at  the  table,  fine-looking  and 
graceful !  You  remember  that  Kate  laughed  at  the 
way  he  held  his  fork  ?  Jay  was  beyond  him  then. 
Oh,  if  I  only  knew  that  he  is  equal  to  him  now  I  " 
exclaimed  Ellen. 


no  WN  WARD   AND    UPWARD.  243 

"Seth  was  obliged  to  work  and  to  study,  and  a 
blessing  it  has  proved  to  him,"  was  Daisy's  reply. 

"  Grant  Clayton  has  known  a  still  harder  life,  and 
Dr.  Landseer  says  that  he  will  make  one  of  the  best 
physicians  in  the  city.  Daisy,  would  n't  you  think 
those  parents  who  love  their  children  would  pray  to 
be  poor?" 

"We  must  not  undervalue  riches  because  some 
have  made  mistakes  ;  rare  advantages  are  open  to 
those  who  have  the  means,  and,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  more  harmony  in  mental  and  physical  growth 
in  an  atmosphere  not  frigid  from  necessity." 

"  But  something  else  is  needed,  Daisy." 

**A  good  firm  principle  as  the  ground -work, 
whether  we  be  poor  or  rich,"  answered  Daisy. 

"  Dr.  Landseer  says  there  must  be  exertion ;  and 
when  our  wants  are  all  supplied,  there  is  nothing  to 
prompt  us." 

"  True,  diamonds  are  not  found  without  a  careful 
search ;  and  so  it  is  with  our  intellectual  and  spiritual 
gifts." 

"  I  would  be  afraid  to  be  rich,  Daisy." 

"  If  you  are  ever  rich,  you  will  know  how  to  use 
it.  Wealth  is  to  be  used  judiciously.  The  mistake 
is  in  feeling  that  it  is  ours,  and  not  realizing  that  we 
are  only  the  stewards.  The  responsibility  is  ours, 
and  an  exact  account  will  be  demanded  of  us." 

"  It  is  fearful,  any-way,"  and  Ellen  was  weeping 
passionately. 

Above  them  the  stars  were  shining,  and  the  night 
air  was  heavy  with  perfume. 


244         ^  0  jvjV wa rd  a nd  up  wa r d. 

"  Have  you  heard  from  Mrs.  Flashman  recently?  " 
Daisy  asked. 

"  She  wrote  me,  after  mamma  died,  several  times ; 
the  first  was  to  tell  me  she  did  not  think  it  necessary 
for  her  and  Agnes  to  put  on  black ;  it  would  make 
no  difference,  she  said,  no  one  knew  mamma  in 
Montreal.  Then,  again,  to  tell  me  that  Mr.  Flash- 
man  had  lost  a  large  amount,  and  that  she  would  be 
obliged  to  stay  at  home  during  the  summer.  Agnes 
writes  occasionally,  but  she  seems  unhappy.  I  some- 
times wish,"  but  Ellen  did  not  say  what  she  wished, 
and  Daisy  was  silent. 

The  few  days  that  Dr.  Landseer  remained,  he 
insisted  on  passing  as  much  as  possible  in  the 
open  air.  "  Climbing  the  hills,  as  we  did  that  first 
summer,"  he  said  to  Daisy,  "  drinking  from  the 
same  spring,  and  carving  our  names  anew  upon  the 
trees." 

Seth  and  Lydia  were  not  averse  to  this.  And 
Herbert  Lyndsey  was  again  a  boy,  making  whistles, 
climbing  trees,  and  shouting  out  in  boyish  glee  and 
abandon.  Once  more  Ellen  and  Daisy  went  with 
Seth  after  the  dun  cows ;  but  Mike  was  there  to  let 
down  the  bars ;  and  when  they  returned,  he  insisted 
that  Lydia  could  not  milk,  that  privilege  belonged  to 
him. 

Sweet  day  of  unbending  from  study  and  toil ;  days 
to  be  remembered  for  the  good  they  brought,  the 
rest,  the  suggestions,  and  promptings  received  from 
nature  herself,  drinking  in  the  health-giving  influ- 
ences, and  only  the  more  able  to  do  effectual  work. 


D  O  WN IV A  RD  A  ND    UP  WA  R  D.  245 

"  I  feel  ten  years  younger  than  when  I  came  out," 
said  Dr.  Landseer,  as  he  took  his  leave. 

"  There  must  be  a  feeding  time  for  the  mind  as 
well  as  for  the  body  and  for  the  soul  of  man  as 
well  as  for  his  intellect.  Nature  is  a  grand  teacher; 
the  more  we  love  her,  the  more  she  repays  that 
love." 

Dr.  Landseer  returned  to  New  York  alone,  Ellen 
was  to  remain  a  month.  In  the  meantime  Mr. 
Lisle  and  Daisy  were  making  arrangements  to  sail 
for  England. 

"A  year  or  two  and,  Providence  willing,  we  shall 
return,"  said  Mr.  Lisle,  as  the  villagers  crowded 
around  them  to  say  good-by.  A  few  low  murmured 
words  and  stifled,  heart-breaking  sobs,  and  it  was 
ended.  New  paths  were  to  open,  new  experience  to 
be  theirs. 

"  A  year  or  two,"  murmured  Ellen,  as  she  sank 
down  by  the  side  of  Mrs.  White,  and  covered  her 
hands.  "  What  changes  may  not  take  place  in  that 
time?" 

"  And  what  lessons  of  patient  love  and  trust  may 
not  be  learned,  dear  ?  " 


THE   END. 


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